


A House, A Home

by CaissyMax



Series: History of the L'Manbergians [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dream Smp, Gen, Manberg Rebellion, Post-Election, Techno and Tommy have yet to realize they are adopted siblings through Wilbur, Tommy needs a break, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, and maybe some therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaissyMax/pseuds/CaissyMax
Summary: Tommy is used to fighting. He’s grown up fighting for what he believes in. Wilbur’s taught him to never give up. But nothing prepared him for fighting against his own people. For the struggle of keeping Wilbur from giving up on everything they’ve ever worked for.Techno, semi-retired, mostly bored, discovers trouble disguised as a child and an old friend injured and hiding in his home and only pretends to put up a fight as his farm becomes the foundation for a burgeoning revolution.What can he say? It’s the most interesting thing to happen in a while even if he’s exhausted just watching Tommy run around.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap (background), Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: History of the L'Manbergians [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972756
Comments: 68
Kudos: 571





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be honest, pretty obsessed with this series right now and wanted to play around with the plot and characters some myself. And even though Wilbur not fighting because he's old is a joke he's making, I've taken it and run because I wanted to haha. Techno's design is a little bit from the SAD-ist animatic with the twist of having a skull instead of a mask because that imagery is just...so good.  
> Hope you enjoy, they're will be more of this as I manage to write it and I'll probably write some scenes from before the election or from other sides of the conflict at some point so watch out for those.

He’s humming as he latches the gate securely behind him and finally sheaths his sword back at his hip, safe back within the boundaries of his little oasis amid strange and dangerous lands. He strolls leisurely down the path towards his home, pausing here and there along the fences to rub a horse’s nose or scratch behind a cow’s ear. He fixes the strap of his satchel and sighs as he breaks off towards his shed where he slowly removes logs from his satchel and stacks them up against a wall.

He had wanted to do a thorough weeding of the fields today. But a storm had blown through overnight and torn a hole in the roof of his barn and left him with quite the problem to deal with. He’d spent more of the day fighting off monsters as he tried to collect the wood he needed to repair it than doing literally anything else he would have preferred more. He would have rather spent the day watching paint dry.

Well, not really, but it would be about as boring and tedious, is the point he’s trying to make here.

He finishes unloading his bag and deigns to work the logs into more appropriate planks after he’s taken a moment to unload the rest of the junk he picked up along the way. He’s pretty sure that even without the logs clogging his satchel up, it was still halfway to bursting, but isn’t that just the way of the world?

Back down the path he goes until he steps up onto his porch. Where he stops and contemplates his door, ajar and swaying gently in the breeze, hand shifting back to the pommel of his sword with hard earned instinct. “Interesting…” he murmurs, his other hand grabbing his mask from his bag, he’d never stopped carrying it with him even when he stopped wearing it all the time, and it fit just as well as it ever had. Though he does have to shift some of his hair out of the way, as he has much more of it now than he used to.

He considers what he might be walking into here. Wasn’t likely to be monsters unless he had a perimeter fence down somewhere, which would only cement his surety of having the worst luck a human being could. And even if those monsters didn’t go for the animals first, they certainly wouldn’t have left the door on its hinges. At the same time, there isn’t much else around, save for those monsters, that might invade a home.

He’d picked the middle of nowhere for a reason.

Finally, he shrugs and shoves the door open, not like he’s gonna find out by standing around-

And he dodges a crossbow bolt that would’ve been embedded in his throat had his muscle memory not been so deeply ingrained. Decent shot, all things considered. Not good enough, but decent.

His sword is in his hand but he hesitates to attack when, across the room from him, a prime spot to defend from, a boy crouches, crossbow in hand and already reloaded. Quick hands. His face is twisted up in a snarl and there’s a nasty slice across his cheek. But that’s not what really catches Techno’s attention.

He tilts his head hoping to get a better look at the...body the boy was apparently guarding. Based on the blood and the bandages, whoever it was was beat up even worse than the kid. He waits a beat, sees the shallow raise of the body’s chest and is relieved that at least it isn’t a dead body the kid is guarding.

“Don’t come any closer!” the kid shouts and Techno wants to tell him to take it down like ten notches but he’s got the feeling the kid wouldn’t appreciate that.

Techno glances from the kid to the bolt that’s made a hole in his wall and back. “Message received, kid-”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” The kid snaps and Techno just stares at him for a long moment. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. 

“Okay.” he agrees. “Would still like to know what you’re doin’ in my house.” The kid doesn’t lower his crossbow and so Techno doesn’t feel bad about still wielding his sword. He doesn’t think the kid would have a chance even if he did sheath his sword, but he won’t insult the kid like that.

“And who’re you?” the kid demands as if he’s in any position to be making demands, lacking armor and guarding deadweight as he is. “How do I even know this is your house?”

Techno sighs. “Sure you could look around and find pink hair just about anywhere, might be evidence enough.”

The kid frowns at him, vaguely confused, and Techno uses his free hand to tug forward his braid to make the statement a little more clear. Of course, the kid isn’t satisfied with this alone. He was really asking a lot of Techno here. “That still doesn’t explain who you are.”

“Feel like I should be the one asking that,” he says with a shrug, purposely dodging the question again, “seein’ as I’m not the one who’s doin’ the intruding here.”

The kid squints at him. “Tommy.” he finally mutters and his crossbow lowers the slightest amount. “We weren’t going to be here this long, but Wilbur passed out on me.”

Techno tries to get a better look at the body but Tommy shifts to keep the majority of this ‘Wilbur’s’ features out of his sight. It’s a long silence before Techno makes the very hard decision to be the bigger man and sheath his sword once more. “Need some help with that?” he asks, gesturing towards Wilbur with his chin.

Tommy squints at him and Techno starts planning out how to get the two out of his home if the kid refuses to cooperate. Like some sort of infestation. The cats in the barn had gotten rid of his mice problem from a couple months back, he wonders if there’s any animals that could chase off children.

Maybe he should get a dog. 

The staredown lasts for long enough that Techno gets all the way to figuring out the coordinates to getting to the nearest village and what sort of training a dog on a farm might need. And Techno tenses at the sudden movement from Tommy but it’s just him unloading the bolt from his crossbow and dropping it to the floor, scrubbing his free hands through his hair and groaning. “I’ve already tried patching him up, but he still won’t wake up and I don’t really know what I’m doing!” He laughs but it isn’t happy, more grating than anything.

Techno creeps closer, closing the space between them slowly until he’s more confident that the kid won’t pull out a knife after all of his effort. When Tommy seems to be fine curled up, arms wrapped over his head and not moving, Techno lays a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the kid’s flinch because long as there was no attacking, this was fine. “Happens to the best of us.” he says, unsure whether that was comforting or not. He gently nudges at the kid, urging him to move from his defensive position. Couldn’t help if he couldn’t get at the man. “Now, move aside so I can get a look at your friend. Won’t help anyone if he’s just over there bleeding.”

Tommy inches to the side, giving Techno room to get in alongside him and the wounded man, but not leaving his side entirely. Techno kneels down beside him and Tommy shifts to sit at Wilbur’s head which he decides to take as a good sign. Well, that and his crossbow had vanished somewhere along the way, back to wherever the rest of his stuff was probably. Though Techno had yet to spot any sort of bags on the kid.

Techno turns his attention to where it was really needed now. He takes a cursory glance at what he was working with. Though the bandages are patchwork and would likely need changing out for cleaner ones, chances are the man isn’t currently bleeding to death, despite what the dark stains on his blue coat might say about it. So, Techno figures he can focus on his head to start. Got to make sure the man didn’t pass out from a head wound, scrambled brains aren't easy to come back from.

Though, he does have a few healing potions he might be able to spare if things really went bad.

He brushes the man’s matted and curly hair aside to get at his eyes and freezes when he gets his first good look at the man’s face. “Huh.” he mumbles and nearly sends Tommy into cardiac arrest with that one little noise.

“Oh, he’s dying, isn’t he?” Tommy moans, covering his face with his hands. And he flips 180 fast enough to make Techno’s head spin. “Those bastards! I’ll never forgive them for this, they’ll pay in blood-” Which is a whole lot of very interesting information, but he doesn’t need the shouting in his ear along with the blood feud.

“Nah, chill out.” he says, continuing with what he was doing, pulling his eyes open one after the other to check his pupils. Both of which look fine to him. No serious head trauma. Cool. “Just didn’t realize exactly which Wilbur you’d dragged into my home.”

That seems to stop Tommy dead in his tracks as Techno continues searching for any less obvious injuries, pressing carefully but firmly across Wilbur’s ribs. “You know Wilbur?” he asks and it’s the softest Techno’s heard him yet.

“Knew, yeah.” he confirms, not like he’s got much to hide on that front. “Used to work together on the occasion, till he got injured and all but vanished.” He shrugs as he moves on from checking for broken bones to tugging his first aid kit from his bag and starting to peel away the makeshift bandages.

“Why do you have so much history with scary masked men?” Tommy mutters to the unconscious Wilbur, poking a finger into the flesh of his cheek. It takes all Techno’s willpower to keep moving as if those words didn’t make dread shiver down his spine.

Isn’t like it’s anything to worry about anyway. Dream and Wilbur had always been chummy with each other. It isn’t exactly a surprised to hear that they’d kept in touch even after Wilbur’s retirement.

Even so. “Should I be worried about someone following you two out here?” Isn’t much other reason for them to be out this far. These were wounds made by sharpened blades and arrows, not the crude junk you found on monsters. And anyone running from monsters doesn’t run away from civilization.

Tommy seems to really think about it and Techno takes that time to get himself a bucket of water and a washcloth. “Don’t think so. They’re likely looking for us on a horse but I ran it nearly an hour in the other direction before letting it loose and doubling back.” He sighs and slumps some, tugging idly at one of Wilbur’s curls. “They’ll figure it out eventually, but hopefully we’ll be out of your hair by then.”

Techno pauses in his task and looks at the kid, an eyebrow raised behind his mask but mostly worthless with the majority of his expression hidden. “And where are you planning on going next?” he says, casual as he returns to Wilbur’s side and begins working off the jacket and making the executive decision to just cut his shirt off because he doesn’t feel like trying to move him around that much. When Tommy sees what he’s doing, he moves to help.

Tommy shrugs as he holds up Wilbur’s shoulders so Techno could tug the fabric out from under him. “Not sure yet.” he mutters and his hands jerk towards his pockets when Techno pulls a knife from his boot and starts slicing. Leave it to the kids these days to get experimental with where they keep their items. What was wrong with a good ole bag?

Then again, Wilbur had already been pushing the envelope with his belt pouches. And he’d never really managed to figure out where Dream kept his items either, swallowed by excessive green fabric as he always was.

Huh. Maybe he’s the odd one out here.

...nah.

“Wilbur’s usually the man with the plan.” Tommy continues, relaxing once more and pulling the sliced and soiled fabric out of Techno’s way. Techno focuses first on the arrow wounds littering the right side of his chest and arm. “I’m sure he’ll have some ideas, once he wakes up.” Oh yeah, Techno remembers Wilbur’s scheming. Sometimes moving too fast to even keep up with himself. Techno’s willing to bet good money on this being one of those situations.

“How’d you pull these out?” he asks instead of continuing to grill the kid, wiping the wounds down and checking for any wood splinters that might have been left behind.

“I cut off the fletchings and pulled them the rest of the way through.” So, the kid has some experience, that’s good for his chances.

They both lapse into silence after that, Tommy helping where he could but mostly with Techno doing the majority of the patching up. And the sun is just starting to set when Techno ties off the last bandage around Wilbur’s abdomen.

“Okay then.” he sighs, sitting back on his heels and shoving everything back into his bag before he could forget about it. “Gonna have to move him.”

Tommy looks between him and Wilbur and frowns. “We could probably just leave him here, couldn’t we?” Techno doesn’t even justify that with a response, just staring at Tommy until the boy slumps and mutters, “Yeah, fine.”

The hardest part of moving him isn’t even how much he weighs, which isn’t really that much for a grown man. But rather the height difference between him and Tommy and the fact that Wilbur was all unruly limbs.

And never say that Techno doesn’t know how to be charitable as he settles Wilbur into his own bed before going hunting for the winter blankets he’s got tucked away. He tosses the blankets on his ratty old couch and turns on Tommy, who’s been following him like a duckling, and catches his chin in his hand. Tommy flinches and hisses out a breath but Techno focuses on prodding at the slice across his cheek, more likely an arrow than a blade. A blade likely would’ve taken out his eye that high up on his cheek. “You need to clean this.” he says firmly but isn’t too worried as there aren't any signs of infection for now. He pulls his hand back and narrows his eyes. “Got any others I should know about?”

Tommy puts some distance back between them and Techno feels a little bad, but he’s sure it’ll pass. “No, just-just that. Wilbur...he took the worst of it for me.” Doesn’t sound like the Wilbur he’d known, but they had years between them now, and he isn’t quite sure what to make of the connection between these two yet, so who knows.

Techno nods and says, “Take the couch, get some sleep,” before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

A grip on the fabric of his sleeve stops him in his tracks but when he looks over his shoulder, Tommy’s fully out of grabbing range. Quick on his feet too. Kid really does have something going for him. “Where’re you going then?” he demands, a little too brave considering his circumstances.

He hums. “Out.” he finally says and Tommy’s too busy being offended by his answer to stop him from walking out the door.

Not like he’ll be getting any sleep under the same roof as two strangers.

Guess he can get those logs sorted sooner rather than later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who gave this a read :D I've never had such good reception on a fic before omg hope you enjoy this chapter too!
> 
> I tried so hard to get Tubbo introduced in this chapter and it was not happening. So we have some more Tommy shenanigans again. Also to anyone else who watched the festival: oh my god I've never had so much inspiration for writing in my life!! I have so many scenes written in my doc and I can't wait to get to the point that I can post them! Got a whole scene with Niki and Techno in my head that I can't wait to get onto paper
> 
> I'm always really bad at tagging so if there's anything specifically that someone thinks needs to be tagged feel free to tell me!

That first night, Tommy doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t even acknowledge the blankets or the couch. He parks his butt on the floor beside Wilbur’s bed, hands in his pockets, and waits.

He doesn’t even have the strange skull man’s name, he’s not going to trust him not to come back and slaughter them both in their sleep. He’s not stupid. He won’t be fooled again. Wilbur was down for the count and relying on Tommy to keep him from really kicking it.

But, as the night wears on, he doesn’t hear the skull man entering again. Which isn’t that reassuring. He can still recall how fast the man had moved earlier and it makes him wonder what sort of ‘farmer’ they’ve found themselves at the mercy of.

His eyelids grow heavier as he sits. The silence is loud enough to drive him mad and the anxiety churning in his gut has him tapping his fingers, bouncing his feet. Anything to keep him aware. There’s a part of him that’s sure that the moment he closes his eyes he’ll be attacked. The traitors they once called friends will appear and they’ll be dragged back to Manberg to face Schlatt…

And he’s watching Schlatt hold a blade to the back of Wilbur’s throat. Wilbur is kneeled in front of an audience of those they had once fought beside. He isn’t even struggling. His eyes are on Tommy and he keeps telling him to run. “Tommy, run. Tommy, run.” Over and over and over again, it becomes a buzzing of noise in his ears. But even if Tommy’s arms weren’t held fast behind him by Fundy, he’s not sure he could move. His heart is pounding but he’ll see this through to the end. “That was pretty easy.” Schlatt murmurs, smirk a thing of casual cruelty, and he brings his blade down-

-and Tommy’s head jerks up, wides eyes scanning the room first and foremost, instinct hammered into him in the war. There’s the grey outline of the furniture, there’s just enough moonlight coming through the windows for him to see that much, but all the black shadows that he can’t see into are surely enemies waiting for him to drop his guard once more.

His heart is still pounding and if that translated from dream to reality, what else did? Was that a nightmare at all? Or was it a memory?

He twists around onto his knees, chest leaning against the bed as he scrambles to find a sign that Wilbur was really there, that his brain wasn’t making a fool of him. He finds the warm skin of Wilbur’s arm and slumps, burying his face against the blankets on the bed and taking a few deep breaths. He feels the bandages wrapped around Wilbur’s arm and the worry stirring in his gut doesn’t fully abate. He feels his way down until he reaches Wilbur’s wrist and pressed his fingers firmly against his pulse point, settling himself as proof of Wilbur’s heart beating is beneath his fingertips.

He sits there and breathes, he could sink back into sleep like this. Almost as soon as the thought of sleep crosses his mind, he remembers the door at his back, the strange man whose house they’re in.

And slowly, carefully, he nudges Wilbur over, towards the wall the bed is against, opening up some space, and he crawls into that space, pressing his back against Wilbur’s arm. He can’t afford to freak out over Wilbur every time he wakes up. He has to be prepared for an attack and not the panicking sort.

He tucks a hand back in his pocket. Comforts himself when his sword quickly comes to hand. His other hand reaches behind him and finds Wilbur’s pulse again.

He drifts in and out for the rest of the night.

He’s not awake when the sun rises, so the sun is already warm against his face through the windows when he feels something nudge at his legs. And with Wilbur warm at his back, Tommy doesn’t hesitate. He launches himself out of the bed with a shout, sword in hand with barely a thought.

There’s a flash of off white, dark red, and bright pink, a firm grip on his arms, and suddenly Tommy’s on his back on the wooden floor, winded and swordless. He blinks up at the ceiling, stunned, handing inching back towards his pocket until that dry voice asks, “Really still reaching for weapons?”

“I could still crossbow you.” he growls, though it’s not as intimidating as he would like with how breathless he is. He pushes himself up onto his elbows but regrets this as the room spins around him and groans as drops back down.

“Oh. I’m shakin’.” There’s a mocking quality to his tone and Tommy wonders if there’s anything that can ruffle this guy’s feathers. But if anyone can find buttons to push, it’ll be himself. “Can’t even see straight and he’s threatenin’ to shoot me.” the man mutters to himself as he steps over Tommy and back out of the bedroom.

“Wait, you fuck!” he shouts after him, shoving himself to his knees and then all the way up to his feet, bracing himself on the wall before stumbling to catch up with the man. He nearly trips over his own feet when he hesitates at the threshold. He glances back at Wilbur and doesn’t really want to leave him there, defenseless-

“You comin’?” the man calls back, one dark eye peering back at him through that freaky skull.

“Of course.” he scoffs, though he crosses the threshold back into the main house slower than he might have otherwise. “As if I’m going to let you get away with waking me up like that, big man.”

“Oh. Right.” the man says quietly as Tommy walks up beside him, staying out of arm’s length. The man rubs at the back of his neck, pink hair still in that long braid, and Tommy wonders how anyone can deal with so much hair. He wondered the same whenever he saw Niki dealing with hers. “The name’s Techno.”

“I don’t care about your name.” he announces, arms crossing over his chest, and chin tilted up in challenge. When Techno turns back to face him, Tommy certainly doesn’t shy away at the attention, no, he stands firm and meets those dark eyes, which seem a little too amused. And that only serves to irritate Tommy all the more. “I want to know what you want.”

“...what I want?” Techno says slowly, hands shifting to his hips, bunching up the shiny red fabric of his shirt. Tommy squints at the choice of attire. It was more befitting of someone in a royal court than a farmer.

“Yeah, not like I’ll believe you’re helping us out of the goodness of your heart.” Tommy mocks and Techno nods.

“Fair enough.” He scratches at his chin and turns his gaze up to the ceiling. “Could use some help around the farm, I guess.” he says with a shrug.

“I-what?” Tommy stumbles, thrown off. “You want me to do chores?” He can’t quite believe his ears.

The corner of Techno’s lips quirk. “Got something better to do?”

Tommy almost glances back towards where Wilbur is again, but stops himself. “I, well, I guess not, but-”

“Great. I’ll show you how to feed the animals.”

* * *

Three days after Tommy and Wilbur burst into his life, Techno is, for the first time due to the sheer stubbornness of Tommy, alone in his own home. Tommy’s out running wild in the fields, hopefully burning off energy, though Techno’s not confident that there’s anything that could wear Tommy down to a manageable level.

Techno’s wondering if he should call the kid in to eat something when he hears a loud thud come out of his bedroom. He quietly closes the cupboards he was digging through and the thud is followed by even louder cursing before the whole house goes utterly silent once again.

Techno sighs and shelves any plans he might have had for the day.

Wilbur was finally awake.

Techno’s glad, honestly, that Tommy’s not here for this. Him and Wilbur had never had a problem with each other before, but who knew how time had aged things.

By the time he makes his way back to his bedroom, he finds Wilbur has pressed himself into a corner, knees pressed up against his chest. And somehow he’s found himself a knife. Impressive. Techno had thought that he’d hid the weapons in here pretty well. But clearly, even bleary eyed as he was, Wilbur was resourceful as ever.

Despite the threat of a weapon, Techno unbuckles the sword from his belt and leaves it leaned up against the wall by the door. Wilbur’s eyes are huge and focused entirely on him when he turns back around. He hasn’t moved an inch. It’s a stark difference to the utterly casual Wilbur of his memories. And until he knows for sure that Wilbur’s really seeing him standing there, he’s not going to do anything to appear threatening if he can help it.

He opens his mouth…

...and comes up completely blank. He has no idea what to say here.

His isolation was catching up with him. He hadn’t been good at talking to begin with, what was he supposed to do now?

“Was it all a dream?” Wilbur murmurs, so quiet that even in the silence of the room, Techno almost doesn’t catch it. Techno risks a step forward, watches as Wilbur squeezes himself tighter, knuckles white around the knife’s handle, but otherwise doesn’t react and so he takes a few more.

He closes the space between them, boldly enters lunging range, and kneels down. Wilbur just watches him. Techno’s a little insulted that Wilbur doesn’t see him as a threat, but it’s also sort of the point so there’s that. “What do you mean, Wilbur?” he says, slow and easy, taking a moment to check over the bandages scattered across him. A little blood is spotting the one on Wilbur’s abdomen, but all of the others looked clean.

Wilbur jerks forward and it takes a lot for Techno to not retaliate and let Wilbur twist his fingers into the loose fabric of his sleeve. “Techno.” he breathes. And that’s a good sign. He knows who he’s looking at. “No.” He shakes his head. “You can’t be here, Techno. It can’t have all been a dream.” His breathing grows quicker and Techno’s sure he’s going to start hyperventilating. “The revolution. The election. L’Manberg. It can’t’ve just not happened. I can’t-” Techno doesn’t get most of what’s coming out of his mouth, but he gets the high pitched panic that accompanies them. He’s just not sure what to do about it.

He settles with reaching forward with his free hand and coaxes the knife out of his hand before he hurts himself. Wilbur barely even seems to notice, burying his newly empty hand into his bird’s nest hair. “Tommy.” Wilbur says, tightening his grip on Techno and leaning forward. “Have you seen Tommy?” There’s desperation in Wilbur’s eyes and Techno wonders just what has happened to this man.

Techno’s not a huge fan of having his space invaded and it’s only made worse when Wilbur shifts his grip to his shoulders. Techno leans away. “Uh.” he hesitates then figures it can’t hurt anything. “Yeah. Tommy’s the one who brought you here, Wilbur.” He wraps his hands around Wilbur’s wrists and pulls them off his shoulders. “You’re pretty beat up.” he says, eyeing the growing red spots with a frown.

Wilbur doesn’t take the hint and slumps fully against Techno’s front. “Oh, thank fuck.” he mutters into Techno’s chest and Techno is as rigid as a statue. His voice is growing quieter again. Won’t be awake for much longer now. “Techno, f you hurt Tommy, I’ll end your life.”

Techno nods, supporting most of Wilbur’s weight at this point. “Sure you will.”

Wilbur goes boneless and Techno sighs. He’s going to have to get Wilbur back into bed again-

“I’ve never seen him like that before.”

Techno doesn’t startle. He gets even more wound up. He’ll have to be more careful around the kid until he can burn some of this tension off. He doesn’t think Wilbur is really a threat to him physically, but he doesn’t doubt his ability to find other ways to make Techno miserable.

Without being asked, Tommy joins him in the room and together they move Wilbur back onto the bed. Techno retrieves his sword, strapping back into his belt, but Tommy lingers at Wilbur’s bedside. He might not be able to pry the kid away from him the rest of the day. And he’d been doing so well keeping the kid from spending every hour here.

“Got stuck in his own head.” he says and joins Tommy back at the bedside. “He woke up in an unfamiliar place. Lucky it wasn’t worse, honestly.” He pulls out his supplies and starts working on replacing Wilbur’s bandages.

Tommy doesn’t say anything to that, just moves to help Techno, same as he has every time. Techno wonders, not for the first time, where Wilbur managed to pick up the kid.

He’s more curious about what Wilbur was going on about. “So.” he starts. “What’s this I heard about a revolution?” Sounds like something Wilbur would go for. Sounds like it could be a good time. Makes him almost jealous that Wilbur’s retirement has been more exciting than Techno’s own isolation.

Tommy pauses with his arm half wedged under Wilbur, trying to get loose the bandage around his abdomen. He takes a few, very obviously deliberate breathes, and Techno’s sure he’s misstepped until Tommy lifts his head up to meet Techno’s eyes and he sees that rather than hurt, he’s furious. Huh. “Dream, that son of a bitch,” Tommy hisses through clenched teeth and, well, guess that relationship soured, “was regulating village trading. Monitoring material usage. Rules and rules and rules, the lot of us were suffocating under them.”

Well, that’s close to answer enough. “Wilbur put up a fight.”

Tommy chews on his lip and then shakes his head and continues his task. “Not at first.” he mutters. “He claimed a patch of land as his own, said that anyone who wanted a say in the laws of their land could find refuge with him.” Techno feels safe rolling his eyes with Tommy's attention turned on Wilbur again. Wilbur Soot, always one for putting on a show. “But Wilbur was opposed to any sort of violence. Not sure why.” he says under his breath and Techno pretends he doesn’t hear because he’s a gentleman. “So we drafted a declaration of our intent and sent it to Dream.”

“I’m sure Dream loved that.” Techno says bluntly. Dream had never liked losing, him and Techno had always been similar in that way.

Tommy squints at him before slumping and nodding. “He sent a declaration of war.” Tommy’s practically whispering now and Techno can see the echoes of a war in his eyes. “White flags.” There’s a haunting quality to his voice and Techno knows in an instant that those blue eyes aren’t seeing him anymore. Oh boy. “White flags or we’re dead by dawn.”

Just what Techno needed, two very traumatized people in his house. How long will it take before he does something to trigger them?

“Tommy.” he snaps and Tommy flinches, but some life comes back to his eyes. He turns his tone more casual. “How good are you with that sword of yours?” Nailed it.

Tommy huffs. “I would show you if you’d give me it back.”

“Last time you had in those pockets of yours you tried to stab me.” he snorts.

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up in that familiar condescending, proud way. “I think you’re just scared. Admit it, you’re just nervous that I’ll prove I’m more of a man than you.”

Well, Techno was certainly nervous. But more in the general way he was always nervous. But sure, if the kid wants to think himself a big man, Techno can show him a thing or two. “Okay.” he says and pulls the blanket back over Wilbur, Tommy looks surprised by the turn of events. “You can have your sword back if you can take it from me.”

Tommy laughs and it’s so cocky and it’s going to be very funny when this kid realizes what he’s up against. “You’re on.” Tommy agrees and takes a step forward. Techno raises a brow and takes a step backwards. The smirk on Tommy’s face only grows and when he lunges, Techno is already halfway out of the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Techno dodges the kid’s attempts to get a hold of him all the way across the property. And, he’ll give it to him, the kid manages to get pretty close a few times, determined and just that little bit faster than Techno who’s always prided himself on brute force and efficiency rather than speed. He leads the chase all the way to the round pen in the back, where his feet sink into soft sand, and then stops, turning so his back’s against the fencing. 

Tommy stops as well, shifting warily opposite him, eyes shifting to take in the new setting. But Tommy refocuses when Techno pulls his sword from his satchel.

Because Techno moves at his pace and no faster, and because it’ll likely make the kid more hasty to act when push comes to shove, he takes a moment to examine the blade. Tests the edge, holds it up in front of his eyes to check how straight it is, meanwhile he can see the kid practically about to vibrate out of his skin with impatience. Finally, he deems it, “Not bad,” and flips it to hold the hilt out to Tommy.

Who continues to just stare at him with narrowed eyes. Techno sighs. “Joking aside, it’s not gonna be a fair fight for you without this.”

That’s clearly the wrong thing to say. Tommy’s expression shifts to a ferocious scowl and he scoffs in disbelief. “I’m not about to lose to a man who spends all his time weeding fields.” Techno wants to argue that he also feeds and milks cows, trains and breeds horses, and occasionally destroys people in combat, but, well, it’s not like the kid’s asking.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t going to use my sword.” he says and takes a few steps closer, practically placing the sword into Tommy’s hand. He could admit to being a little curious as to what the kid was capable of. Could Wilbur blame him for hurting the kid, if the kid agreed to the fight?

Tommy looks like he’s going to refuse again, but thankfully grabs the hilt, and Techno watches with a critical eye as his hand shifts to a learned grip. Good. Not just some teen running around with a sword then. He wonders who taught him. Kind of hopes it was Wilbur. Techno knows how to counter most of Wilbur’s moves. Though Wilbur had always been one that leaned towards caution and defense and that doesn’t seem like this kid’s style. Least, far as he can tell.

Techno steps back and draws his own sword. “Go on, then.” he says, shifting his stance a little wider but, over all, just waiting. “Show me what you got.”

Tommy doesn’t move for a moment and Techno is sure that he’s going to have another objection to this-

-until he lunges forward, swinging hard and fast in a move that might have taken a chunk out of Techno’s shoulder had he not been ready for attack. Metal rings through the quiet farm as Techno blocks, using his free hand against the flat of his blade to shove Tommy back into a more favorable striking distance. He braces for Tommy to come right back at him, but Tommy gives ground instead, an unexpected retreat, and Techno’s forced to give chase. He delivers a few blows of his own and though Tommy manages to hold him back, Techno can see the effort through the grimace on his face. Can feel it with the way the kid’s arms shake.

“What the fuck.” the kid mutters as he pulls off a pretty impressive feint and goes on the offensive again. Tommy drives him back enough to keep from getting pinned against the fence and when Techno pushes him back and gets under his guard, holding back just enough that he doesn’t actually tear into the kid, he keeps pushing forward, expecting Tommy to retreat.

But the kid comes right back at him with a sharp smirk and they get tangled up too close in each other’s space, enough so that skill isn’t a factor. And Tommy knows it, he can tell, a quick flick of his wrist could hack into Techno’s abdomen. But Techno’s never been a good loser, or a loser at all, so he’s not shy about circumventing a few unspoken rules, kicking his leg up between them and sending Tommy sprawling with one well placed boot to the chest.

He puts the tip of his sword into the dirt and leans onto the hilt with a slump that he might worry about his back over if he really cared. He watches Tommy gasp on the ground. “What the fuck.” he says again, breathless this time and Techno shrugs.

When Tommy doesn’t seem as if he’s about to move anytime soon, Techno sighs and stands, sheathing his sword and climbing up the fence rails to sit at the top, chin resting in his hand. Tommy only moves far enough to shove his sword into his pocket, which is quite the strange sight, and Techno worries for a moment that he’s broken the kid. Maybe Wilbur had a right to be concerned.

And then he hears the sniffling.

Oh no.

He leans forward but Tommy’s face is tucked into his elbow now and Techno’s heart sinks. He chews on his lip. “You...good?” he asks, unsure. And feeling excessively lame with only those two words.

“Fine.” Tommy spits, vicious, though Techno doubts that, considering he still hasn’t moved from where he’s laying in the dirt. “Just so bored by that exchange that I figured I’d take a nap.” Techno scoffs, clearly the brat wasn’t that affected by whatever had caused this sudden burst of emotions. “Don’t think you’ve won either,” he snaps, “there’s no victory in such cheap tricks.”

Techno rolls his eyes and leans back, arms crossed over his chest.. He’s not so worried anymore. “Any battle won is a victory.” he corrects. “Especially if that means you’ve kept yourself alive a day longer.”

“You’re a depressing bastard, aren’t you?” Tommy mutters, finally uncovering his face and pushing himself up. Techno pretends he doesn’t see his red eyes or the wet trails down his cheeks.

“Guess so.” he says with a shrug.

Tommy scrubs at his cheeks and turns to face Techno. “You won’t win a second time.”

Techno raises a brow. “Huh. If you say so.” And hops back down into the round pen.

* * *

The path from the farm to the villages isn’t well worn, isn’t obvious to most who might be looking, but Techno’s travelled it more than enough to be able to follow it without much thought. If he felt like it, he could probably give Carl his head and he’d follow it just as easily without any impute from him.

He had been apprehensive leaving Tommy alone on the farm. But Wilbur was waking up on and off still and Techno wanted to leave him alone there even less.

And he’d already packed his bag full for trading the night before. They needed food that wasn’t potatoes.

Though he could be honest with himself. If there was anywhere with the gossip to give him more information on what those two might be running from, it would be the village. And he’s more than a little curious about the whole thing.

Sure enough, the villagers are already out and about and chatting away as they set up their trading stands for the day. A few go quiet when Carl’s hooves plod across the packed dirt, a few of the older villagers, unafraid of him for a multitude of reasons that Techno refused to acknowledge, called out greetings to him. A middle aged woman, her children running around her ankles as she attempts to set out what enchanted books she has today, even goes so far as to teasingly call, “Back so soon, Techno? And here we just saw you two weeks ago!” Techno ducks his head and huffs, heading for the water troughs without comment.

When he’s got Carl appropriately secured, he makes his way back to the traders on foot. The armorer and fletcher try to catch his attention as he passes and the woman smirks at him when he hesitates near her because he’s always a sucker for some enchanted books. After a moment, he approaches her, figuring he can kill two birds with one stone here.

Check for any good books. Get information on what’s going on outside his little farming bubble.

Thankfully the woman helped along his second objective without being asked. She leans towards him as he flicks through books. Infinity. Prot 1. Oh, looting isn’t bad. “Have you heard about the election results?” she asks, seeming giddy about the topic. “I’m guessing not, you don’t seem one to keep up with politics.” She nudges another shimmering book towards him and Techno is surprised to see Mending scrawled across its front page. She winks at him when he looks back at her.

“No.” he says slowly and digs out a few emeralds to pass to her, tucking the book away in his satchel. “Should I be worried?”

She glances pointedly to the sword at his waist and raises her eyebrows. “Not unless you were the one running against President Schlatt.” she laughs and shakes her head. “Even then, I know what you’ve got on that sword of yours, don’t think there’s much you can’t cut through with that.”

He nods. He hesitates. It feels sort of wrong going behind Tommy and Wilbur’s back like this, but...he has to know what he’s up against if he keeps the two around. “President Schlatt?” He didn’t know there was a president of anything.

“Yes, yes.” she says and shuffles her books back into order. “Friend of mine was there for the results. Was a mess apparently. He only won because him and the Coconut campaign pooled their votes together.” She sighs and her shoulders slump some, she presses her palms flat against the cover of one of her books. “They won fair and square but it was sad to see Wilbur chased out like that. No one deserves that.”

The shepherd set up beside her snorts. “Can you blame Schlatt?” he drawls. “Wilbur’s fought for that country once, what’s to say he won’t do it again?”

“Uh…” He realizes that there’s a lot more he’s missing here than he thought.

The woman turns on the man, scowl on her face, one hand on her hip and one pointing at him. “Don’t you start with me.” she snaps and the shepherd holds up his hands in surrender. Coward. “This must just sound like a mess to you.” she says with a glance towards him.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer her before a hush goes over the bustling town. Techno’s attention whips around towards the sound of horse hooves on the path. Most of the villagers didn’t keep horses around on the basis of them being too high maintenance. The whispering picks up again, quiet at first but growing louder as the horse and rider move further down the path. Techno keeps an eye on them from the corner of his eye rather than straight on. 

He notices the suit the person is wearing before anything else, a very unusual outfit for someone on a horse, and the librarian lets out a small gasp. Techno turns his attention fully back on her when she does and she meets his eyes. Hers are wide. “He’s the new Secretary of State.” she whispers to him. Accurately reading his search for information. “He got promoted the night of the election results. Awfully young if you ask me.” She says with a judgmental eye.

Techno doesn’t want to linger much longer. “Thanks.” he tells the woman and moves on to what he’s actually there for. Supplies, not books. She smiles and waves him away. He moves between the rest of the traders, trading emeralds and his own products for the supplies he needs, keeping his eye on the newcomer as he did.

The boy, because the woman was right, he’s just a boy, no older than Tommy, certainly isn’t what Techno would imagine when picturing a government official. He doesn’t wear his suit with the comfort of someone who picked the outfit for himself. Walks like he’s nervous about being caught by someone.

The more interesting part is when he starts talking to the villagers. Techno uses the excuse of sorting through his satchel to settle himself closer without being obvious. Hard to pull off when he’s got multiple inches on everyone, very noticeable pink hair, and a skull covering most of his face, but no one could call him a quitter.

“Has anyone new passed through the village?” the boy starts, shifting from foot to foot in front of the weaponsmith.

The old woman eyes him with suspicion, clearly not everyone in the village is as up to date politics wise as the librarian and the shepherd. But she softens, just like he assumes anyone might, at the look on the boy’s face. “Gonna have to be more specific.” she tells him, returning to sharpening an axe with unshakeable hands. “We get a lot of people, new and familiar, passin’ through to get a look at what we’re trading.”

Techno, pretty sure this kid couldn’t hurt a fly, steps up to the old woman’s stall as well. He examines a wicked looking dagger as he feels the boy at his side go stiff. “Hallo.” he greets the woman, who rolls her eyes.

“I’d appreciate you not scaring off my customers, boy.” she says and slides the dagger firmly out of his reach. She’s never forgiven him for the one time he ran into her in the village. Last time he needed to replace his sword he had had to travel to a completely different village unless he wanted to be price gouged for everything he was worth. But, let it be known, Techno learns his lesson the first time.

Mostly.

“Oh. Oh, no, it’s fine, really.” The kid rushes to say and Techno gives him a sideways look. The kid meets his gaze more firmly than he expects and he’s sort of impressed. “I’m not scared off that easily.” It’s almost said like a challenge and his chin tips up the slightest amount more and, for a moment, Techno sees Tommy in his expression, but it’s gone just as fast, replaced with a polite smile. “More efficient this way besides, see I’m looking for two people. One of them might be injured and I’m...I’m very worried.” The boy chews on his lip and looks away.

Techno hums. That’s confirmation enough for him. Whatever tricks Tommy had pulled to buy him and Wilbur time clearly weren’t enough for their pursuers to lose the trail. “My farm got robbed the other day.” he offers. He can probably work with this. “Didn’t take much other than food and a few of my healing kits. I could take you out there, if you think it would help.” He could do subtle. The old woman doesn’t say anything, but her disapproval is clear through the growing frown on her face.

But if the boy notices, he doesn’t comment on it. His friendly smile is firmly in place and he folds his hands in front of him, though he fiddles nervously with his fingers still. “If you don’t mind.” he says and slumps some. “It’s the only lead I’ve got so far.” he admits and it almost makes him feel bad about the fact that he’s not really helping this kid with anything.

“About to head back anyway.” He waves to the old woman, who continues to scowl at him, and begins to dodge through people to make his way back to Carl. The boy, even with his shorter legs, doesn’t have that hard of a time keeping up with him, keeping pace alongside him after only a few second’s hesitation. “As long as you can keep up, you can follow, I don’t really have time to wait around if you get lost.”

“Don’t worry about me and Percy,” the boy regains some of his cheer, “we won’t be slowed down by a couple of trees and an unmarked road.”

Techno huffs a laugh but doesn’t comment further, turning instead to untying Carl and pulling himself up into the saddle. He sort of expects the boy, short as he is and with his horse a similar build to Techno’s own, to struggle up into his own, but instead he pulls himself right on up, settling easily.

Techno’s still a little unsure with how easily the kid meets his eyes. “Any chance I can have your name before I follow you into the forest?” he says though he’s already directing his horse to follow Carl as Techno heads back in the direction of home.

Techno hums. He’d rather not, but, whatever. “Techno.” And he leaves it at that.

“You can call me Tubbo.” the kid replies, sticking close enough that their boots bump with every stride. It’s going to drive Techno crazy. But he can’t chase the kid off yet. He’s his one chance of figuring out what he’s dealing with now.

“Alright.” he says and hopes that’ll be the end of it.

But no, because the universe hates him. Techno really should’ve looked into a dog to chase away annoying children while in town. “So, how long have you been a part of the village here?” Tubbo asks and Techno hopes that this kid isn’t trying to make small talk here. Because that isn’t going to happen.

“I’m not.” he mutters, keeping his eye out as they enter the forest proper. Monsters that couldn’t tolerate the sun generally tucked themselves away in the shade of the trees.

That seems to stump the kid for a second before he rallies with a weak, “You’re...not?”

“Nah.” he says and doesn’t explain any further. He’s got the kid on the hook, he doesn’t need to give up any information about himself that he doesn’t want to.

Techno sees the kid’s hands twisting on his reins. Figures it must be a habit considering how his horse has zero reaction to it. “You aren’t a farmer?”

“I am a farmer.”

“Ah.” That puts some wind back in the kid’s sails. “So, you’re more like a wandering trader type.”

Techno full on squints at the kid. It feels like they’re having separate conversations. “What? No. I’m not an anything. I only trade for things I can’t make or grow myself.”

The kid hums and Techno could swear he sees the corner of his lips twitch. “I don’t know.” he says, hand coming up to his chin like he’s thinking about it. “I’m pretty familiar with village customs and all that, I think I’d know one when I saw them.”

The kid stares straight ahead, focused more on where Techno’s leading him than Techno himself. Which could prove to be a mistake. But Techno’s got this feeling that he’s being laughed at.

And they aren’t as far from the village as he might’ve liked, but he’s had just about enough of mouthy children to last him the rest of his life.

It’s not difficult. The kid’s attention is so firmly fixed ahead of himself. It means that Techno can say, “No, really, don’t even think I’ve got anything interesting in my bags right now.” and make as if he’s going for his saddle bags. But instead he goes for the kid’s saddle, unties his cinch, and shoves it all sideways, right into the dirt.

The kid shouts, limbs flailing, his horse spooks but doesn’t run far off, and Carl is steady as a rock as Techno slides off him. The kid is trying to detangle himself from his saddle so Techno approaches slowly, taking the time to dig around in his bag and pull out his spare lead. “Wha…?” the kid coughs, thoroughly winded by his tumble. He looks up and his blue eyes are so wide though Techno is impressed that even now there’s no fear there when he meets his eyes. The kid reaches for the bag still barely hanging off his shoulder, but Techno hooks his foot through a strap and drags it out of his reach.

He grabs the kid under his arms and pulls him away from the mess of the saddle and even though the kid’s scrawny he puts up a decent fight. But Techno pins him to the ground, a knee in his back and pulling his arms back, and gets to wrapping the rope around him. “Why are you doing this?” The kid actually sounds confused by the turn of events and Techno forcefully shoves down the guilt.

“Sorry.” he says, sure his sincerity is lacking as he tests his kits and pushes himself up to his feet. He leaves the boy wriggling on the ground and hefts the dusty saddle up into his arms and works on calming and resaddling the boy’s horse. “Don’t know if you’re enemy or ally yet. Can’t be too careful.”

That only seems to confuse the boy more and he makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. He even tries to kick at Techno when he comes back towards him. Good to know the kid isn’t done fighting yet. “What?” And now he’s sounding angry. Good. Techno pulls the kid up and onto his shoulder, not much of an impediment with the kid’s size, though Tubbo gets one good kick to Techno’s stomach which almost sends them both to the ground. Techno settles him belly down in his horse’s saddle before he gets a chance to try again. “I don’t even know you-” the kid stutters to a stop but Techno doesn’t pay it much mind as he grabs Percy’s reins and ties them to Carl’s saddle before tightening the cinch one last time.

He’s about to swing himself back up into the saddle when the kid’s quiet, “They didn’t steal from you at all. They’re still with you.” stops him in his tracks.

Techno sighs and heaves himself up. “Got this strange feelin’ that I couldn’t get rid of them if I wanted to.” he admits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Tommy so hard to write?? He's got so many emotions. And I was originally gonna skip the first scene and jump right into the villager scene but then decided that I was going to take the chance and use the excuse to practice a fight scene. I'm still not really sure about how it turned out but it's there so, yeah lol  
> And woo! Got Tubbo in finally, though getting to that point took way too long haha, I think I restarted that scene a few times trying to get it to cooperate with me!  
> Clearly this fic is just an excuse for me to torture Techno with children at every opportunity ;)  
> And please feel free to leave a kudos or a comment with suggestions for...anything really, I haven't consumed a lot of the other streamers content so if there's any particular viewpoint or dialogue that you really want to see in a fic just let me know!


	4. Chapter 4

“Tommy.”

His head snaps up and he has to shove his hands against the tabletop to keep from going for his crossbow and proving Techno right about his first instinct always being to attack. He can’t help that he spent so long having the instinct ingrained into him that he’s not likely to get rid of it anytime soon.

Wilbur leans heavily against the doorway that separates the little kitchen from the main room of the house. He’s got an arm wrapped around his stomach and he’s acquired a shirt from somewhere, but Tommy watches his expression most of all. He hasn’t been able to get Wilbur’s wild eyes and desperation out of his head. He knows what Wilbur’s like. Knows that he’s likely to suffer silently before asking for help and it makes Tommy all the more frustrated that they’re in this situation at all.

He looks like he could be knocked over with a strong enough breeze and Tommy’s is practically about to vibrate out his skin with the urge to check and make sure he’s really there. He forces himself to stay still. To wait instead of rushing in. He reminds himself that this isn’t a figment of his imagination when he’s never seen Wilbur like this before. Even during the war, they had all worked so hard to keep Wilbur out of the worst of it. Seeing Wilbur take those shots for him, it brought Tommy back to some of the worst moments of the war.

He shakes the thoughts from his head and scoffs, focusing on checking over his crossbow bolts. “Took you long enough.” he says and pointedly doesn’t look as Wilbur shuffles into the room and sits himself down across from him. Wilbur folds his hands together on top of the table and Tommy knows the second he meets Wilbur’s eyes that he’s facing the man who founded a nation more than his friend. Tommy sits up straighter, sets aside the things he was working on and braces himself for whatever conversation is coming. He may not like it but he was nearly a vice president, he’s been Wilbur’s right hand from the beginning, he knows when to get serious.

“Why are we here, Tommy?” Wilbur asks in that deceptively calm tone of his.

Tommy squints at him, brows furrowing because, well, that’s not where he expected this conversation to start. “We’re here because I wasn’t about to drag your skinny arse around the forest for another day.” he sniffs and slouches in his chair. If this is what they’re talking about, he doesn’t have to care nearly as much as he thought. “And Techno was too intimidated by my skill to chase us out.” he boasts, firmly putting yesterday’s losses out of his mind.

That breaks Wilbur’s stony expression like nothing else and he barks a laugh that Tommy does not like the sound of. “Oh, you poor sweet child.” Wilbur coos, wiping his eyes as if he’d even laughed that hard, which he hadn’t. “You don’t even know whose home you’ve stumbled into. You’re lucky you’ve still got that head of your to not-think with.” Tommy glares, fuming, and Wilbur smirks, reaching out to rub a hand over Tommy’s hair, which Tommy swats at with extreme prejudice.

“What are you on about?” he snaps, patting his hair back into some semblance of order. He ignores how weird it is to see some sort of hat taming his own mess of curls. And a mess it was, after so many days without proper care. “He's just like you. Mercenary gone soft.” He commits to the words with a sneer, despite wanting to suck them right back in. If Wilbur was going to keep laughing at him, then Tommy was ready to give as good as he got.

But it does the trick of sobering Wilbur up some. Though that cold indifference is settling back into his eyes and it...it scares Tommy, just a little.

Just enough.

“Technoblade,” Wilbur says and if Tommy wasn’t so focused on the way Wilbur’s knuckles were turning white where his hands were wrapped around each other, he might have paid more attention to how familiar that name sounded, “isn’t ‘just’ anything. And he certainly isn’t ‘soft’.” Wilbur’s eyes narrow and flick from the assortment of bolts across the table, to the crossbow leaned against Tommy’s chair, and to the sword worn in a proper sheath across his back for the first time in his life. Tommy wants to press his hands over Wilbur’s face, cover his eyes before he sees more than Tommy wants him to. “But you’ve already figured out as much on your own.” he states, doesn’t ask.

Tommy grinds his teeth together. “He’s a good man, Wilbur.” And he believes that even though he also says it partially to be obstinate. It takes more energy than he would like to remain at a reasonable volume. “He’s the one who patched you up right. And he’s letting us stay here until you’re able to move faster than a shuffle.”

Wilbur leans forward and Tommy doesn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “And what did he want?”

Tommy blinks. “...what?”

Wilbur reaches forward and wraps his hands around Tommy’s wrists, fingers bruisingly tight on Tommy’s skin. “Technoblade doesn’t do things for free, Tommy.” Wilbur shouts and there. Tommy swallows as that glassy eyed madness breaks through the indifference, seeps into his eyes the same way it had the day before. “What did he want?” He shakes Tommy and Tommy doesn’t freak out even though he wants to. He wants to shout back. Shout and shake and bring down the house around them. Get rid of the bubbling turmoil of emotion crammed into his chest.

But even he knows how counterproductive that would be. “Wilbur,” he says, the image of cool and collected, “you’re scaring me a little here.” He gives a firm tug against the grip on his wrists and Wilbur’s eyes fall to where they’re connected, eyes going wide like he’d forgotten he’d grabbed Tommy at all. He drops Tommy’s wrists like he’s been burned.

“Oh, I’m- Tommy, I didn’t mean-” He just stops and stares at his own hands, doesn’t finish his sentence, though Tommy gets the gist of what he was going for. Wilbur slumps back into his chair like a puppet with its string cut and covers his face with his hands, breathing heavily.

Tommy watches him, rubbing at his wrists and taking deep breaths through his nose to calm his racing heart. “It was the only option I had.” he admits after a long moment of silence. Maybe if he had been faster, smarter, more in some way, Wilbur wouldn’t be like this. They wouldn’t be stuck having to rely on the kindness of a stranger. Wilbur peeks out at him and Tommy blows out a breath. “You’d lost a lot of blood, Wil. You were passed out and I didn’t know if the false trail I’d laid would work. Night wasn’t far off.” He shrugs, picking at a loose thread on his shirt for something to do with his hands. “I saw the farmhouse and figured if they’re this far out, they probably had supplies that could help us. Techno caught me in the act and, well, here we are.” He waves a hand, then drops it limp back against the table.

Wilbur buries his face back in his hands and doesn’t say anything. He’s so still that Tommy might’ve been worried about him having fallen back asleep if not for the still erratic nature of his breathing.

Slowly, Tommy pushes his chair back and levers himself up to his feet, slipping the bolts and crossbow into his pockets, and still Wilbur doesn’t move or speak.

Tommy sighs and leaves him there. He’s sure he can find something to do while Wilbur…

While Wilbur hopefully gets his head on straight.

* * *

When he returns to the kitchen a few hours later, he’s surprised to find that Wilbur doesn’t look like he’s moved from that spot the entire time. Tommy lingers at the threshold for a beat before shaking himself and walking in like he’s got nothing to worry about.

He starts grumbling as he throws open cupboards and clatters through pans and dishes as he digs through them. “Guess I have to do everything around here.” he sniffs as he finds potatoes, potatoes, some questionable carrots, vaguely stale bread, and unidentified meat. He throws together whatever still looks edible into some semblance of a meal because he’s hungry and if he makes more than he’d be able to eat on his own, then, well, he might as well make enough for two. He’s already putting in the effort anyway.

He puts it all into a pan and tries to light the over, but his flint and steel refuses to catch. “Fucking work!” he shouts without really thinking, throwing his hands up and about to throw the useless things to the other side of the room.

Only for them to be gently removed from his hold and for him to be nudged sideways. Wilbur takes his place crouched in front of the oven and it takes him one, two, three strikes of the flint and steel to get the tinder burning. Wilbur doesn’t move at first. Watching the fire grow with his chin resting in the palm of his hand. The flames create interesting shadows on his face and the reflection of them in his eyes turn his irises a metallic bronze.

Just as Tommy opens his mouth to complain about Wilbur wasting the wood, Wilbur pushes himself up to standing, knees creaking and cracking as he does. He moves back to his seat at the table but watches Tommy now instead of hiding away. Tommy ignores the attention and shoves the pan into the oven to cook.

He takes a few stabilizing breaths. He hates how much all of this reminds him of the days and weeks following Schlatt getting chased off the SMP for good. Wilbur had put on a much better put together act then than now but Tommy had always suspected that, friendly as they were with each other, like recognized like with those two. And Tommy can’t imagine Wilbur trusting anyone too similar to himself. Tommy would like to consider himself very familiar with how Wilbur’s mind works and it might worry him more if he wasn’t so sure that Wilbur would never do anything to hurt him.

He turns back around and leans against the counter, arms crossed. He meets Wilbur’s eyes head on and waits.

Wilbur bites his lip and looks away to stare at his own hands, flexing his fingers, before finally asking, “What...what’ve we got left, Tommy?” His voice is so soft and there’s so much hurt in his words that it makes Tommy want to hit something. He settles with squeezing his arms instead.

He wants to give Wilbur better news but he just doesn’t have any to give. He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “We’ve been reduced back to nothing, Wilbur.” he says honestly. “All I’ve got is what’s left in my pockets and half of it’s garbage.” he practically spits, shaking his head. He’d curse his past self for not being more prepared but even he knows that he would have had to be some sort of psychic to see...all that coming.

“Nothing.” Wilbur mutters, one hand curling into a fist as the other rubs over his eyes. He looks exhausted. Tommy hopes he’s not about to go and sleep for another couple of days. There’s got to be a limit to how much sleep can be beneficial. “After all that, we’ve got nothing.” Tommy expects him to sound mad but he mostly sounds resigned. That’s fine. Tommy can be mad enough for both of them. He’ll take whatever Wilbur can contribute after having the rug pulled out from under him. Tommy can adapt. “We gave up literally everything for L’Manberg.” He pushes himself up and starts pacing and Tommy’s just relieved to see him moving from that chair. If it’s only thanks to nervous energy that’s fine too. “We gave up friendship! An alliance with some of the most powerful people in the lands. And, in a moment, poof.” He spins around and points at Tommy. “Our sacrifices mean nothing.”

“That’s not true.” Tommy snaps immediately. “Just because we are, temporarily, exiled doesn’t mean we’ve lost L’Manberg for good! We’ve just got to get it back!”

Wilbur scoffs, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back out of his face. “Oh, come on, Tommy, don’t be-”

He cuts off as his attention is caught the same as Tommy’s by yelling coming from the front of the property. “Pull that out, would you?” he says quickly, motioning to the oven before taking off, ignoring whatever Wilbur shouts after him. He...he thinks he recognizes that voice.

He nearly trips over his own feet between the kitchen and the front door and nearly skids off the porch right into the dirt with how fast he’s moving. He skips a few of the steps down and when he sees the two horses, first and foremost, before anything else, he’d know Percy anywhere. He was there when Tubbo first got him. He was there the first time Tubbo managed to get a saddle on him. He’d been there to laugh when the young horse left Tubbo in the dust more than once.

He freezes. All of his momentum just...stops. He can only manage to stare, eyes wide as Techno leads both horses on foot towards him on the path. The yelling doesn’t stop and Tommy can’t figure out where it’s coming from until he spots the flailing legs on Percy’s back.

He’s both horrified to realize his friend’s tied up like game and unable to stop a laugh from bursting out of his lips at the sight. High pitched and reedy and filled a little too much with relief.

He shoves a hand against his mouth and pushes right past Techno to help Tubbo off of the horse and back onto his feet. Tubbo mutters, “It’s not funny, Tommy,” just as Tommy takes him by the shoulders and spins him around. Their eyes meet, blue on blue, and they grin at the same time.

“Tubbo!” he laughs and is about to crush the other boy in a hug when a sharp voice cuts through the moment.

“Tommy, I’m surprised.” Wilbur says in that snide tone that sets Tommy’s teeth on edge. His fingers dig hard into Tubbo’s shoulders before he realizes what he’s doing and forces himself to relax. He can see Tubbo looking between all three of them, even Techno who’s gone quiet, Tommy’s curious about what Techno could possibly be thinking in this situation, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off Wilbur. He doesn’t know what this Wilbur, the one who woke up different, is capable of.

Especially as Wilbur stands at Techno’s shoulder, easy as can be, like he’s very comfortable there. Which is about as confusing as anything. “What do you mean, Wil?” he asks, going for casual but getting a little too close to cold.

Wilbur leans on Techno, who surprisingly allows it, though he’s gone stiff, and examines his fingernails. “I just find it interesting how you’ve decided to get so chummy with him when he works with our enemy. For all you know, he could have been tracking us down to finish the job.” Wilbur’s voice is put upon innocence until it’s not, lips twisting into a fierce glower as his eyes shifted to watching Tubbo instead of Tommy. 

Tommy liked him better asleep.

...he immediately pretends he never thought that.

Despite every part of him that protests, Tommy meets Wilbur’s eyes dead on and removes his hands from Tubbo’s shoulders. He puts a few steps back between them and is so, so glad when Tubbo doesn’t try and follow him. Tubbo’s smart, he’s likely already realized that he isn’t dealing with the Wilbur of a few days ago. 

And, though he trusts Tubbo more than anyone, Wilbur, at the very least, had a point. Tubbo had accepted the job. He had stood up on that podium beside Schlatt and watched just like everyone else as they were chased from their home. He’d stayed behind.

Tommy had given up his home for Tubbo once, was it selfish to wish that Tubbo would do the same for him?

“I am not-!” But Tubbo cuts off when Wilbur simply raises an eyebrow and gives a look to Tubbo’s rumpled suit. Tubbo flushes red but doesn’t back down and his shoulders are already pulled back thanks to the ties, but he stands straighter anyway. Tommy wants to cheer him on, and the corners of his lips twitch with the temptation, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut. “Well, maybe I am.” he concedes. “But what good would it do us if I was stuck out here as well?” He walks forward and stops right in front of the two men and Tommy wants to yank him back out of their range, but he doesn’t. He trusts Tubbo. He’ll hear him out. They’ve been through too much together for him not to. “If I can stay on Schlatt’s good side I can feed you information! We can figure out a way to get you both back to L’Manberg.” he says and there’s something like desperation in his voice.

Wilbur rolls his eyes and Tommy wants to throttle him. “Then why’re you here instead of getting cozy with your new president?” he sneers.

Tommy can’t help but snap, “Watch your mouth, Wilbur Soot!” and he’s backed up by Techno mumbling, “A little harsh there, Wil.” Which is enough to remind Wilbur who, exactly, he’s been leaning against and Wilbur straightens up with an irritated frown.

Tubbo is the only one not deterred by Wilbur’s words. “You’re both-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Everyone’s saying that both of you are dead and I-I had to know if they were right or not.” There’s so much emotion in Tubbo’s voice that it makes Tommy’s throat tight as well. He swallows and can only imagine what Tubbo must have been thinking. He had rode out here not knowing whether he was searching for his friends or their...bodies. Tommy can’t even comprehend that. And, even without being able to see his expression, Tommy believes what Tubbo is telling them.

He stalks forward to put himself shoulder to shoulder with Tubbo, defiant in front of the men standing like a funhouse mirror across from them. He won’t start cutting ties with the people he cares about just because of Wilbur’s paranoia. “I think we should trust him.” he says, leaning into his smaller friend. “Tubbo’s never lied to us before, so why would he now?”

Wilbur stares between them both with dead eyes, he says nothing for an uncomfortably long time, and then he sighs, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “Do what you want, Tommy,” he mutters, waving a hand and turning away from them, “you’re going to no matter what I say anyway.” There was a bitterness in the words that has Tommy bristling but he bites his tongue and just watches Wilbur wander deeper into the property rather than back into the house.

Techno glances between them and Wilbur and back and sighs like a man who will never again know rest. Tubbo snorts and that causes Tommy to laugh despite the tension. Or maybe because of it. He sees Techno’s eyes narrow through the skull’s eyes but he merely says, “I’ll take care of these two,” lifting the horses’ reins and turning to walk away as well. But Tommy hears him mutter before he’s quite far enough away, “And then we try and figure out where Wilbur’s head is at. Joy.”

As soon as they’re as alone as they’re going to get, Tommy starts wrestling with the ropes around Tubbo’s arms. And when his arms are free, Tubbo doesn’t waste any time throwing them around Tommy and squeezing like he’s trying to wring all the air from his lungs. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay.” Tubbo mumbles into his sternum.

Tommy blinks, desperately trying to rid them of the stinging sensation as he returns the hug. Tubbo wouldn’t judge him for them, but Tommy doesn’t want to fucking cry again. “It was touch and go for Wilbur. I was scared.” he admits quietly because he knows this information will never make it past Tubbo. “I am scared. And really worried about Wilbur. He’s-he’s not right, Tubbo.”

Tubbo nods, hair becoming even more of a mess against the fabric of Tommy’s shirt. “I noticed.” he whispers back. “But we’ll figure it out, Tommy. When has anything been able to stop us when we’re together?”

Tommy sighs and feels something in him relax for the first time since the election results. “I missed you.”

He can feel Tubbo grin against him. “Me too.”

* * *

When he’s finished brushing the horses down and setting them out to pasture, Techno goes on a Wilbur hunt. He’s surprised to find that he hasn’t gone far. Sat atop a fence and scowling out into one of the pastures.

Techno swings up alongside him and, when Wilbur doesn’t acknowledge his presence, starts this very much needed conversation with, “Thought you and Schlatt didn’t talk after you nearly killed each other during the whole,” he waves a hand, “flooding fiasco.” He rests his chin on his other hand and watches as Tommy and Tubbo tumble across the field, in their own little world now that they’ve given up the pretense of hesitation. He deliberately doesn’t look at Wilbur. He doesn’t feel like seeing the madness lurking in his friend’s eyes. He’s as inclined towards chaos as anyone but seeing bright and inventive Wilbur forced into that mindset isn’t something he would have ever wanted. Didn’t mean he was about to turn his back on him. If Wilbur was willing to go through with this, he was going to need allies who wouldn’t hesitate when push came to shove. And Techno was more than willing to be that ally.

“We didn’t!” Wilbur’s voice is high pitched, almost manic, and he smacks his hands against his thighs. And, while Techno still isn’t sure on all of the details, he can tell that whatever went down, it was bad. He’d seen Wilbur bounce back from a lot. But this...it doesn’t seem like he’s coming back the same from this. “But-but he offered to endorse us. His name still carries some weight around here, you know. Said he was really interested in how we had gotten the upper hand on Dream.” Wilbur gets angrier with every word out of his own mouth. “I should’ve known that wasn’t all he wanted. He never forgave Dream for exiling him, after all.” He practically spits the words.

“Yeah, probably should’ve.” he says honestly with a small shrug. Worst Wilbur can do to him right then is shove him off the fence and if he does Techno will just take Wilbur down with him. He tries to steer the conversation towards what’s been eating at him since the start. “What’s up with that anyway?” He goes for casual and has no doubt that he absolutely nails it.

“Up with...what?” Wilbur’s energy crashed back down into something resembling normal with his confusion. Which Techno appreciates. He won’t be able to keep up with any of them at this rate.

“You and Dream.” he clarifies, kicking his feet out and watching them swing back and forth. “Any particular reason you decided to start a war with him?”

That sets Wilbur off. Has him bristling all over again. “I’ll have you know that I am not the one that started the war!” Wilbur snaps, hands wrapped around the fence by his hips and white knuckled from how hard he’s gripping it.

Techno snorts and rolls his eyes. “Didn’t declare war no, but from what Tommy’s said you did just claim a whole bunch of land as yours and told Dream publicly that his laws were tyrannical and you weren’t following them anymore.”

“Fuck what Tommy’s said!” Wilbur shouts and then visibly falters as he realizes what he’s said. He rubs his hand over his eyes and takes a few breaths. “He doesn’t-he doesn’t understand.”

Techno watches him. It’s...sort of a sad sight. It’s nothing like the Wilbur he remembers. Whether that’s a bad thing or not, he hasn’t decided. 

He sighs. “...Wilbur.”

“What?” Wilbur grunts, kicking his heels into the second railing of the fence with not insignificant force.

“You told Tommy the truth yet?”

Tommy, epitome of grace that Techno has already figured him to be, slips on some of the wet grass and goes tumbling head over heels behind Tubbo who just about falls over himself from laughing so hard. Tommy doesn’t take this well and lunges for Tubbo, taking the boy down with him. Techno can only imagine he stains they’re going to come out of the scuffle with. And it makes Techno tired just watching them.

Wilbur stiffens and Techno is sure that anyone else might have missed it with how fast he loosens up again. Wilbur plays dumb well. But Techno’s got a feeling it’s been a while since he’s really put his skills to the test. And picking Techno as one of his test subjects is, well, not the first mistake Wilbur’s made, but it is a mistake. “Truth?” he says and gives Techno a look with furrowed brows. He doesn’t buy the confusion in his eyes. Not the same way he had the first time. “What do you mean?”

Techno has spent half of the day on horseback. He’s spent more time talking and socializing today than he probably has in years. He does not have the patience for beating around the bush right now. Any other day, he’s game to play around and mince words. But right now he rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.” he says, tapping his fingers, one two three two one, along the top railing. “You aren’t really trying to get, uh, L’Manberg or whatever back from Schlatt.”

Wilbur scoffs and leans back. He might’ve gone tumbling back if he hadn’t been gripping the top railing so hard. Techno can see his arms straining to hold himself up and wants to snap at him not to pull his wounds open again. But if he wants to start bleeding again then whatever. He’ll have to put himself back together. Techno’s not doing it again. “What?” He leans back forward, far enough to duck his head and force Techno to meet his eyes. He’s got them wide, projecting so much sincerity. Too bad Techno knows his tricks. “Of course, I am, I’m going to liberate them-”

He’s taken on the role of scorned leader and he’s going to hold onto it until someone calls him out. That someone was Schlatt once upon a time but, well, things always change. Techno can adapt. He’s amazing at working on the fly. Usually with fighting but surely this can’t be that different.

Right.

“No, you aren’t.” he challenges, narrowing his eyes.

Wilbur’s face falls. He looks hurt. It’s very convincing. He’s always had his big eyes working for him when it came to looking like a kicked puppy. “Techno,” he draws out his name, “what’re you trying to say? Just come out with it.”

Well, okay then. “Name one time you’ve had mercy on someone who’s turned on you. Made a fool of you.” he says, sitting up straight and crowding into Wilbur’s space. He smirks. Wilbur might’ve been willing to act like everything before he retired was someone else, but Techno knows different. Just because he’s been on the sidelines doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who he is. Maybe it’s time to remind Wilbur where he comes from. “Give me one example and I’ll believe that this really is some noble quest to get your land back.”

Wilbur drops the act in a flash. His lip curls up into a snarl. He jabs a finger into Techno’s chest and Techno’s feeling generous enough that he doesn’t immediately break it. “Don’t talk like you know me.” he snaps.

Techno shrugs. “Not my fault you’re lying to yourself.” Wilbur likes that sentence even less but Techno’s never been anything but honest at the most inopportune moments. “It’s been a few years but my memory isn’t that bad.” Mostly. “I know what you’re capable of and how far you’re willing to go.”

He doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, retreating back into his own space and turning his eyes to glare at the grass below them instead. 

“...you can’t tell Tommy.” Wilbur mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and curling up around his middle. 

“He’s not stupid.” Kid’s got good instincts and after the confrontation early, well, “He’ll figure it out. Not gonna like it either.”

“It doesn’t matter.” he snaps. “It’s what needs to be done. They’ve turned their backs on me, after everything I did for them. Whatever comes next, they’ll deserve.”

Techno shakes his head. “I’m not gonna stop you, Wilbur.” He doesn’t even think he could. A Wilbur whose mind is made up is one deterred. It sounds like a lot of work for very little benefit on Techno’s part. He’ll leave that to the boys, who he’s certain are already scheming on their own. They both seem the sort.

“But you’re not going to help me, are you?”

“I might.” he admits. Sounds like something he could get into. “Depending on what’s in it for me.” he adds because if this is happening it’s gotta be a two way street. Best to be upfront about it. Not like Wilbur wouldn’t already expect it.

Wilbur huffs and mutters ‘typical’ under his breath before rallying. “Is causing mayhem not enough?” he cajoles and even when Techno just stares at him blandly, he continues prodding. “When’s the last time you were in a good fight? When someone actually challenged you?”

He puts some thought into it and comes up with, “Fought Dream a few weeks back. That was kinda interesting.”

Wilbur once again seems taken aback by the sudden mention of Dream. “You...fought Dream? When was Dream here?” He sounds actually incredulous now and Techno has to keep from snickering at the look on his face. Astonished is the kindest term.

He continues to play it off as casual as possible. Dry as he slowly says, “Couple weeks ago...I think.”

“And you both just...decided to fight each other?” Now Wilbur’s almost laughing and it makes Techno crack a smile despite himself.

“Well, yeah,” he says, exaggerated and like it’s obvious, “I had to see how we matched up now compared to the last time.”

“...and did you win?” Wilbur asks.

Techno dredges up every ounce of confidence he’s got and boasts, “You have to ask?”

Wilbur snorts and they both trail off into silence, mood a little more pleasant now. The sun is setting and Techno’s wondering where he’s going to shove the new kid if he’s staying the night. Which, Techno suspects he’s going to. He can’t imagine that Tommy would be happy with the boy wandering off at night and in the middle of nowhere.

Into the encroaching night, Wilbur whispers like he’s speaking a secret, “I think I’m going to burn it all down, Technoblade.” Techno glances at him and there’s a life in his eyes that Techno hasn’t yet seen. “Will you help me make it happen?” he asks and offers Techno a hand.

Techno stares at him, considers the pros and cons, really calculates the odds, and shrugs when he takes the offered hand after only a few seconds. “Always preferred a little anarchy, myself. Really builds character.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes and Techno would be insulted but, well, he’s back in the game. He’s mostly just eager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter went from me being stuck on that last Tommy scene to shooting up to over 5000 words so thats...something omg. Hope you all enjoyed it! Tommy also sort of stole the show but lets be honest, Tommy is basically our main character so he deserves some attention!  
> And I dropped some needed backstory hints that I hope will come together haha  
> I'm also working to lay the ground work to Wilbur's corruption some more than you see in the videos, he goes in and out of his right mind and I'm basing this on the fact that while he's mostly ready to burn down Manberg, there are moments where he's very obviously hesitating and wondering if he's making the right choice and I'm leaning heavily into that sort of character for this.  
> Like before if there's anything in particular you want to see, scenes or anything from outside of the main perspectives just let me know! :D


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh right.” he mutters later, long after the sun has set and the boys have stolen the bedroom to share the only bed in the house, effectively kicking Wilbur onto the couch for the night. None of which affects Techno in any way. He’s sat on the floor, leaned against the couch that Wilbur’s already sprawled across. He finds it pretty comical how far Wilbur’s legs hand over the arm of it. Wilbur raises an eyebrow at him and Techno reaches over to drag his satchel over to him and digs through it until he comes out with a case of a dozen glass bottles and a few bundles and bags of potion supplies. All of which he sets on the coffee table he’s got his knees tucked up against. “Brought you a few things.” he says easily, shoving his satchel away again and glancing back at Wilbur.

And as soon as Wilbur realizes what he’s implying with the items, he glares at Techno. There goes their fragile truce. Techno would have been more surprised if it had lasted the night, in all honesty. When Wilbur just continues to glare without saying anything, Techno barrels forward. Techno wouldn’t know how to take a hint if someone actively placed it in his inventory. “You still know the recipe for harming potions, don’t you? I could never convince Phil to teach me it.” he says out loud partially so that Wilbur couldn’t feign ignorance either.

Wilbur sniffs, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his back on Techno, curling his legs up so they’re actually on the couch. He mutters, “No, I’m ancient, remember? Means I’ve got a terrible memory. Go talk to your pal Dream if you want potions.”

Techno chuckles. Good to know that Dream had picked up some potion recipes along the way as well. He can’t imagine he would’ve learned them from Phil, but Dream was more resourceful and tenacious than most. “Guess I’ll just have to ask Tommy,” he sighs, shaking his head, “I’d bet the farm on him being the one you’re passing your recipes onto.”

“Don’t you dare!” Wilbur snaps, bolting upright and shoving at Techno’s shoulder. He lets it shift him slightly before rocking back into his previous position. “You already know poison, don’t you? Isn’t that enough?”

Well, maybe in a world where Techno had minutes at a time for it to kick in and actually do damage. “Don’t be greedy, Wilbur, aren’t we helping each other now?” he tries with no actual expectations of it working.

Wilbur snorts and, yeah, that’s about what he expected. “If Phil didn’t let you have harming potions, then there was a reason.”

Techno pouts. “What about regen?”

“I know you know how to make healing potions.” Wilbur says and Techno glares at his back. He’s sure he’s laughing at him now.

“It sounds like you’re just being lazy now, Wil.” Techno mutters and organizes and reorganizes the ingredients into new configurations. “...strength?” he asks, one last hopeful time.

Wilbur blows out a breath and digs a heel into the space between Techno’s shoulders, which he allows because that sounds like a man too tired to argue with him. “If I make you some fucking strength potions, will you let me sleep?”

“Absolutely.” he agrees.

“Fine.” Wilbur grunts. “I’ll work on it tomorrow. Now, leave me alone, Technoblade.”

Having gotten what he wanted, and not wanting to risk Wilbur’s ire any further, Techno pushes himself up to his feet and goes to find something else to occupy him until he’s tired enough to sleep.

* * *

Techno is staring at his coffee the next morning, begging it with his eyes to be cool enough to drink, Wilbur slouched so far into his own chair that he might as well not be sitting in it at all, when the boys come barreling into the kitchen. Him and Wilbur groan at the same time.

Which doesn’t even give the two pause. Techno hasn’t even worked up to brushing his hair yet, his braid is an absolute disaster down his back. This is, this is asking too much of him. He’s a decent enough person, isn’t he? Does he deserve this?

“I’m going back to L’Manberg with Tubbo.” Tommy states, doesn’t ask. And at a volume that is frankly inhumane at this hour. He rambles on as if he expects to be cut off at any moment. “Tubbo’s got this thing he’s got to be back for and I think it’s a good opportunity to see if we can salvage any of the things we had to leave behind and-”

Tubbo, surprisingly enough, is the one to interject in his avalanche of words, explaining more concisely, “I’ve got to be back before tonight.” he shifts his weight from foot to foot and doesn’t meet either of their eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s obviously still touchy about yesterday’s exchange and what that means for his involvement with Schlatt. “Schlatt’s got his second speech as president planned for tonight and if I’m not there, I’m sure he won’t be happy with me.”

Techno starts sipping at his coffee despite it still being mostly scalding. He is going to need the boost for wherever this is going. Good or bad. He watches as Wilbur slowly pulls himself upright in his chair and doesn’t expect this to go much better today than it did yesterday.

But clearly he’s still not quite on the same page as Wilbur when it comes to this whole scheming thing, because a grin creeps its way across Wilbur’s cheeks.

Which, honestly, is arguably the worst potential outcome.

Wilbur claps his hands together and says, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Tommy shifts so he’s got himself partially in front of Tubbo and, if nothing else, Techno can really admire the kid’s loyalty to the boy. “I’m sure we’d all be happy to escort you back to L’Manberg.” 

“Uh, I don’t know about all of us...”

Wilbur doesn’t even acknowledge him. Typical. Give a guy an inch, huh?

Wilbur’s pushing himself up onto his feet, hands planted on the table and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The movement makes Tommy’s hands twitch and Techno snorts a laugh at the way his eyes dart briefly over to Techno. Kid can try all he wants to prove him wrong, but Techno’s never met anyone so quick on the draw. Wilbur raises a brow. “You want to prove you’re still one of us, don’t you, Tubbo?” he asks, smiling twisting a little sharp at the corners.

Tubbo’s eyes narrow and finally lift to meet Wilbur’s, though he doesn’t manage to reach a full on glare. It makes Techno curious what the kid could be like angry. “I’ll do whatever I have to to prove that you’re wrong about me.” he says and Techno’s impressed by the amount of spine in those words. If the way Wilbur’s eyebrows twitch further up his forehead, he might be surprised as well. Guess anyone who can be attached at the hip with Tommy’s got to have a pretty solid backbone.

But even so, Techno can already tell that the kid has played right into Wilbur’s hands. Wilbur strolls his way around the table and wedges himself between the boys, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. Tommy is as rigid as a statue. “Then you’re going to help us get into L’Manberg so we can watch that speech.”

Tubbo glances at him and chews at his lip. “I...Are you sure, Wilbur? Everyone’s going to be there, what if you get caught? Schlatt won’t let you get away a second time-”

Wilbur scowls and backs off the two, putting some space back between them now that he’s not about to get what he wants without question. “Are you going to deny me this, Tubbo? Deny me the chance to hear what plans Schlatt has for our nation with my own ears?”

“No, Wilbur, of course not!” Tubbo scrambles to answer. “It’s just-”

“-there’s only one of you, Wilbur!” Tommy and Tubbo talk around and with each other in a way that might make Techno’s head spin if he attempted it. “And L’Manberg will need its leader once we’re back where we belong.” Tommy presses a finger to Wilbur’s chest. “We can’t lose you just because you don’t care what happens.”

Wilbur bats Tommy’s hand off of him and gets right on up in Tommy’s face, lips snarling and eyes dangerous. Techno leans forward far enough to snag Tubbo by the back of his shirt and drag him back to Techno’s side, away from whatever catastrophe is about to go down.

“Tommy Innit.” Wilbur says, intense and very, very serious. “I am going with you and you cannot stop me. Me telling you is a courtesy, not an open debate.”

And Tommy takes that about as well as he seems to take being told to do anything that isn’t his own idea. He throws his shoulders back and stands and tall as he can, though Wilbur’s still got a few good inches on him, and continues to argue like he hasn’t heard Wilbur at all. “As if you’ll do anything but slow us down.” Tommy snaps. “You’re still healing!”

Wilbur laughs and shakes his head. “So I’ll brew up some healing potions for the road. Set everything right again in an instant.” Tubbo wiggles out of his grip and looks at him with furrowed brows, a combination of interest and uncertainty mixing in his expression. Wilbur lowers his voice to a whisper, telling a faux secret. “I’ve got it on good authority that Technoblade here has some brewing stands stashed somewhere around here.”

That makes Tubbo’s eyes widen and the kid glances at Wilbur and then back at him as if trying to parse whether there’s any truth to Wilbur’s rambling. Techno turns his eyes up towards the ceiling and seriously considers tossing them all out for a brief moment before shaking his head. “You take a healing potion and you better not expect to be back here any sooner than tomorrow night. Maybe.” he sighs and scoots around Tubbo to set his mug in the sink. He moves forward and presses a hand to both Wilbur and Tommy’s chests and pushes them away from each other. And then he turns on Wilbur. “Even if you manage to keep it together for a few hours, once the healing high wears off you’ll be down for the count for at least a day.”

Wilbur scoffs. “Sometimes you’ve got to make sacrifices for progress.”

“Your life is not an acceptable sacrifice!” Tommy shouts and that’s enough for Techno.

“Enough.” Techno says firmly, grabbing Wilbur by the arm and begins directing him out of the kitchen. Wilbur glares at him and Tommy makes as if to follow but Tubbo takes his example and holds Tommy back. Techno dips his chin and gets a nod in return.

Wilbur tries to pull out of his grip, muttering curses all the while, but Techno only lets him wrench away once they’re on the porch. Wilbur storms off down the steps and looks like he’s raring up for some kind of rant, so Techno starts talking before he can get going. “So...did you want to do some brewing or…?”

Wilbur’s tense for a beat longer and then slumps and rubs his hands over his face. “Fine.” he waves a hand. “Fine! Lead the way, Technoblade.”

Techno leads the way.

He walks around to the side of the house and shoves down the parts of him that do not want anyone else to know where his valuables are. He crouches down and runs his hands over the dirt, focusing on the feel of it beneath his fingers. Wilbur says, “What the fuck are you doing?” clearly impatient just as Techno’s fingers catch on the latch and he shifts to push the disguised cellar doors open. Some stray dirt and dust scatters across their boots. It’s been a little while since he last had to dig into the stores or work on his own brewing stands and it shows.

Wilbur steps up beside him and crosses his arms, frowning as he stares down the shadowy stone stairs. “Techno,” he says slowly, tilting his head, “this looks like a murder hole.” He glances at Techno out of the corner of his eye. “Are you leading me into a murder hole, Techno?”

Techno laughs and begins his descent into the ‘cellar’.

“That’s not an answer, Techno.” Wilbur calls. “Technoblade?” And even then it’s still a few seconds before he hears the rasp of Wilbur’s footsteps descending the stairs behind him.

It means he reaches the bottom long before Wilbur and locates and activates the lever for the lights just as Wilbur hits the last step.

The illumination reveals a large cavernous room. Mostly made out of smooth stone and cold because of it. The room itself isn’t overly large and the space is only made smaller by the cram of chests against one wall and the tables packed with both brewing stands and prototypes of enchanted weapons and armors. He’s got two dusty worn anvils in the midst of it all and there’s a dinged up chest plate and a broken sword leaned up against one. He can’t even remember what he might’ve been working on last in here to leave it in such disarray.

Of course, Wilbur only gives the most of it a cursory glance, because his attention catches on what’s dead ahead of them instead. Lips parting slightly in surprise and eyes widening as he crosses the room in a few quick strides.

Techno considers for a moment stopping him, but figures he’s already on thin ice after pulling him out of the kitchen and so follows him right up to the edge instead. And Wilbur really does get right up on the edge of the steep drop off, the toes of his boots nearly hanging over the air. Wilbur leans forward, one hand braced against the rough edge where he’s carved through the wall. “Holy shit.” he mumbles.

Yeah. He’d been surprised when initially carving out his little hideaway to crack a full hole through one of his walls. And what he’d thought was a cave at first glance turned out to be an underground ravine so sprawling that even now he’s not sure if he’s managed to dig through all its nooks and crannies. Though the scattered spotlights of torches revealed that he had certainly tried. 

After careful consideration, Techno deliberately blocks off the view of the very roughly carved out stone stairs that lead down into the ravine.

Wilbur stares for a long while. Head turning this way and that. Taking in everything there is to see and more. Long enough that Techno, growing bored of the scenery, nudges him and says, “Might want to get brewing if you don’t want the children to leave you behind.”

Wilbur blinks and glances at him with furrowed brows, like he’s not sure what Techno’s just said. Techno considers repeating himself, but Wilbur shakes his head and murmurs, “Right. Of course.” and takes a few careful steps backwards and away from the edge before turning on his heel and obviously choosing to face the chest disaster first.

Techno watches him, the creak and squeak of the chests opening and closing mixing with the faintest burbling of running water and sizzle of lava. He turns back to the ravine and stares out into the shadowy depth and tries to see what had Wilbur so captivated.

But all he sees is stone, stone, and more grey stone, the occasional halo of light that signaled lava rivers, the rare shimmer of a resource Techno had yet to rip out of the walls. Nothing more than any other ravine.

Techno walks away from the edge to begin working on making the brewing stations actually usable. 

“Do you have any melons?” Wilbur calls from where he’s hanging halfway into one of the chests and Techno snorts.

“Not down here.” he admits. “But I can go grab some from the garden.”

“Cool.” Wilbur murmurs.

And together they get to work, falling into a rhythm that Techno doesn’t realize is familiar until he’s already entrenched in it.

Had he...missed Wilbur?

Nah.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to tag along as well, ‘blade?” Tommy feels like he has to ask, shifting his weight to settle more comfortably in the saddle of his borrowed horse. Tubbo and Percy aren’t too far off to the side of him and Wilbur is already quite a bit ahead, already at the treeline and clearly impatient. Tommy imagines it's got something to do with how Wilbur had winced when pulling himself up and how even now his arm is wrapped around his stomach and he’s curled the slightest bit forward.

But Tommy isn’t even sympathetic. Because if Wilbur had just listened to reason instead of being stubborn, maybe he wouldn’t be in pain right now.

Techno is leaning against the gate, holding it open, with his arms crossed over his chest. From this angle, Tommy can’t make out the man’s eyes through the shades the skull casts on his face, but his mouth is settled in a neutral line, so he figures that things are probably fine.

Well and when Techno and Wilbur had reappeared, while Wilbur had disappeared back into the house, Techno had joined them and under the guise of helping saddle some horses, he had passed a few bottles of glistening, oddly colored liquid to Tommy and Tubbo both. He hadn’t looked at either of them as he explained, “For emergencies. Phil didn’t trust me with any of the fun ones, but these should still be able to help in a bind.” And Tubbo had tucked his own away into Percy’s saddlebag too fast for Tommy to get a look at them, but his bottles had swiftness and invisibility scrawled across the glass and that had him grinning. Which had Techno laughing and shaking his head. “Please don’t tell Wilbur I gave you those.” he said, long-suffering and Tommy could only laugh at him.

Now, Techno shrugs like he’s indifferent, the hair that’s come loose from his braid shifting around his shoulders, and Tommy wonders who he’s acting for. “Four seems like a crowd.” he says.

Tommy frowns and glances over his shoulder at the farm. Not even a week here and he’s already worried that if he leaves, he won’t be able to find his way back. As if that makes any sort of sense.

But stumbling across the farm when he had had felt like finding an oasis in a desert. A bright spark of hope in an otherwise dark moment. And, even with whatever is up with Wilbur, it sort of felt as if none of the things they were running from could reach them here.

He sighs. Much as he sometimes wishes he could leaves his responsibilities behind, pass them on to someone else, leaving behind anything to do with L’Manberg meant leaving behind the people he cared about as well. And he would not leave the people he fought alongside, the friends he’s made, at the mercy of a man of Schlatt’s morals. He’s made up his mind on this and he’s got stubbornness down to a science.

When he looks back, Techno is frowning. “Not like I can pick up the farm and leave Tommy.” he says as if he can read Tommy like a book.

Tommy scoffs and nudges his horse into motion. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” Tubbo kicks him in the calf as he passes and gives him a look but Tommy sticks his tongue out.

He hears Techno laughing behind them. “Sure, Tommy. Just don’t go draggin’ any trouble back with you.” And then he hears the gate shut but he doesn’t let himself look back as Tubbo and him join up with Wilbur at the treeline.

The trip out proves much easier than the trip in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanowrimo has begun! And lucky for anyone reading this, this is the story I am committing to for it!  
> Slightly shorter chapter but it felt like a good place to end before the drama of the second presidential speech. Sorry if you were hoping Techno would tag along but at this point in the videos he wasn't even technically on the server yet! So we'll have to be satisfied that he's there for the boys to return to!  
> Also, you'll see some hints of potion lore here because I wanted to come up with a reason for the revolution that isn't drugs so we're tagging drugs out for potions which...you could consider the same I guess haha  
> Hope you enjoy :D


	6. Chapter 6

When they reach the border of the SMP, Tubbo is forced to leave them.

“I took the paved roads when I left.” he says, shrugging and focusing on Tommy instead of Wilbur. His hands twist around Percy’s reins as he talks. “I’m sure someone would notice if I just appear in L’Manberg instead of coming back the same way.” He pats Percy’s neck. “And Percy here isn’t that great of a swimmer anyway.”

Tommy can practically feel Wilbur roll his eyes even if he isn’t looking at him and deliberately ignores him. “Good luck, Tubbo. I guess we’ll...see you on stage.” He laughs uncomfortably and rubs the back of his neck. Smooth, Tommy.

But Tubbo only grins and holds out a hand in the space between their mounts and Tommy claps their hands together, holding onto Tubbo. “I’ll see you on the other side.” Tubbo says, squeezing back before they both let go.

Tubbo wheels Percy around, gives one final wave to them both, and trots off.

When Tubbo is out of sight, Wilbur turns to him and says, “Okay, Tommy, you’re the one who’s run wild through these lands.” Tommy scowls at the wording and Wilbur smirks. “Can you find us a way in?”

Tommy grinned. He knew these areas like the back of his hand. “Of course.” he boasts and kicks his horse into a trot, heading for where he can just make out the river through a patch of trees. “But it means a bit of a swim for us both.”

Wilbur laughs, but his voice is pretty serious when he says, “Anything for L’Manberg, Tommy.”

* * *

Tommy leads them along the bank of the river, ducking them into the cover of the forest whenever they pass a particularly populated section of the SMP.

Soon enough, the river widens out until it could almost be called a small lake instead and splits into two different directions. The left fork, Tommy knows, crosses under the bridge, the only paved road into L’Manberg. The right circles around the other side, heading towards the ocean side of L’Manberg and essentially turns L’Manberg into an island.

Essentially because there’s one other connection to the mainland from L’Manberg.

A small, naturally made land bridge. A spot of land that the river cut under instead of through. Tall and thin and mostly just a wall of rock except for the spots beneath the water that the river carved through. It looked more like a hazard than a bridge, so for most of the war, they’d written it off. It wasn’t even worth defending with how the water pooled and deepened on either side of it which made crossing by river a significant effort. Walking across the top was just plain stupid. If the crumbling stone didn’t dump you into the river with the slightest misstep, anyone bothering to look in this direction would still be able to see you plain as day.

But Tommy, faced with Eret’s betrayal and having learned his lessons from the bunker, knew that they needed a way to escape the water locked L’Manberg were things to go wrong.

Wilbur looks less than impressed, arms crossed as he surveyed the area that Tommy had brought them to. They’d left the horses to graze further off and Tommy’s already taken off his shoes and socks and is working on rolling up his pants though it likely wouldn’t make a difference in the long run.

“Tommy,” Wilbur says, walking up the edge of the incline which led down to the river bank, “surely there are easier places to cross if your plan is just swimming.” He nudges a stone and it goes tumbling until it hits the water down below with a quiet splash.

“So little faith, Wilbur!” Tommy laughs as he walks past and skips his way down to the water’s edge, arms flung out to either side of him as he narrowly avoids going straight in. He turns his attention to the rock wall and begins to feel along the rough surface. “You know me! I’ve always got a back up plan.”

His fingers hit a bump in the otherwise smooth stone and Tommy’s grin only widens. “What are you talking about-?” Wilbur asks just as Tommy pressed the button and a series of muffled shifting comes from below. Wilbur goes dead quiet and the water ripples as, not far below the surface of it, a stone pathway is revealed.

Tommy throws his hands up and pats himself on the back. He turns to Wilbur and motions to his little contraption. He’s just thankful that it still works after so long without use. And considering that he’s never been the best with redstone machines. He probably has Tubbo to thank for helping him troubleshoot most of it.

If the landbridge ever truly crumbled it wouldn’t do any of them any good, as it’s rocky wall was the anchor for the pathway, but at the time desperation meant searching for any way to safeguard their future even if that meant creating one himself.

As if finally realizing that this was really happening, Wilbur began to shuck his shoes and socks as well. “Don’t get a big head about it.” Wilbur grumbles, though Tommy can see him smiling even though he ducks his head to roll up his pants. “We’re on a time crunch here, after all.”

“Fine.” Tommy concedes and places a testing foot on the waterlogged path, making sure it really was sturdy enough to hold his weight. He gets both feet onto it, water lapping up near the middle of his thighs, and is very relieved when it holds firm. “You can tell me how amazing a planner I am later.”

Wilbur huffs a laugh and follows after him. Tommy tries not to relish too much in how Wilbur just wades in after him. It’s a show of trust that he’d been afraid he wasn’t going to see again.

* * *

It’s easy, once they’re on the island, to sneak around the familiar landmarks, keeping careful footing as the skirt around the back of the steep hills that make up the edges of the island. Tommy grits his teeth and has to take one breath, two, as they pass through the shadow of the White House. They’ll get back there. Of that, he’s sure. Of that, he’ll make sure of. Even if he has to wrench L’Manberg out of Schlatt’s hands by force.

They skirt along the edge of the podium, heading for the hill that borders its left side and already Tommy can hear the raucous of a crowd. It might be larger than that of the election results and that’s hard to wrap his head around. Did people really like Schlatt or was it just that more of his supporters were here now that he had won?

Tommy shoves those thoughts deep back in his head. No way Schlatt could be better for L’Manberg than him or Wilbur or, hell, even Fundy would’ve been.

Maybe better than Quackity though, considering that part of all of this mess was due to his scheming to begin with.

“We can watch from NASA.” Wilbur whispers, crouching as they slipped from the shadows of the White House and took a beat to examine their options.

“Okay.” Tommy agrees and Wilbur picks their path across the hilly terrain, climbing up the side of the taller hill that NASA was tucked up against and poking around it’s back wall until they found the ladder that led up to the top. Tommy lets Wilbur climb up ahead of him. He’s not sure how long the ‘healing high’ or whatever Techno had called it would last, but he wasn’t about to risk Wilbur crashing off a ladder without having the ability to catch him.

Tommy walks right up to the edge of the roof, leans over to look at the crowd gathered below. People pressed together, some in the seats provided and others standing elbow to elbow. In some of the chairs closest to the podium, Tommy can make out a few familiar faces.

But as Wilbur tugs him down so that he’s sitting instead of making himself the most obvious intruder ever and he turns his eyes towards the podium itself, he doesn’t see the one face he’s looking for.

Tubbo isn’t on stage yet. Schlatt is talking with Quackity, adjusting his suit jacket and sleeve, there’s some random person checking over the mic and finishing the final touches to the orientation of the chairs on stage. George isn’t there either and that’s the only thing that keeps Tommy from completely freaking out about where Tubbo is.

Just as Schlatt steps up to the microphone. Just as the sound is clicked on, Tubbo comes tumbling through the curtains that separate the open back of the podium from its surroundings. Tommy can see his mouth moving but the microphone doesn’t pick up what he’s saying until he’s standing next to Schlatt. “I’m ready for the speech.” His shoulders rise and fall with every breath and Schlatt raises an eyebrow as he bends over hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m ready for the speech, Mr. President!”

Schlatt’s quiet, derisive snort is caught and projected to the audience, causing both a wave of murmuring throughout and making Tommy want desperately to throw himself between Schlatt and Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t deserve to be at the mercy of this man! None of them do!

Wilbur’s hand wraps firm around his wrist and when Tommy glances over at him with furrowed brows, Wilbur gives a firm shake of his head. Tommy takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out through his mouth. It doesn’t do much to calm himself down but it forces him to relax a little.

“A little late there, kid.” Schlatt says, leaning a little into the microphone as if looping the whole of the crowd into some kind of joke and it does the work of getting a few scattered laughs.

Tubbo flushes, more than he already was from his rush, and says, “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” and he doesn’t look towards the empty space at Quackity’s side but he doesn’t have to. Schlatt’s attention shifts from Tubbo, whose shoulders slump in relief, to Quackity, who shifts awkwardly on his feet, but ultimately holds out his hands and shrugs. It seems as if George is gone with the wind for now.

“Bet that George’s run off after Dream.” Wilbur mutters from beside him, resting his chin on his one curled knee, eyes intense and dark as they watch Schlatt.

Before Tommy can figure out what that means, Schlatt taps a finger on the microphone, once, twice, clears his throat and begins to speak.

“People of L’Manberg!” he shouts like a rallying cry and he gets a smattering of cheering in response. He continues in a normal tone, “We have purged this country of its greatest disgraces, stains upon this great nation.” Tommy clenches his fist, Wilbur hasn’t let go of his wrist. Schlatt smiles and leans on the podium. “The sun rises over another beautiful day in our country. The next page in the textbook. I reckon our nation needs to expand!” Tommy glances over at Wilbur, whose head is tipped to the side, as if he’s not sure where this is going either. Schlatt leans even further forward. His mouth is almost right on the microphone and he whispers, like he’s telling the whole audience a secret, “I reckon we take down the walls.”

Tommy’s jaw drops. Wilbur snaps to attention, relaxed slouch no more as they both watch the shock of the words ripple through the crowd.

And then it’s as if everyone present starts talking at once, with a silent Schlatt, grinning front and center like the cat that’d caught the canary.

“What?” More than a few people call out.

“No!” One distinct voice catches Tommy’s ear through the crowd and it’s only then that he spots Niki, distinct brown and blonde hair a beacon now that he knows she’s there. It’s more relieving than anything, not only seeing her in one piece, but hearing her still standing up for the ideal of their nation.

He returns his attention to the stage when he hears Tubbo murmur. “I...I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Schlatt.” He’s stepped up to Schlatt’s side again, shifting nervously as he looks over the restless crowd.

“You can’t do that!” Another voice rises above the crowd. And though Tommy scours searching for them, he can’t find the person.

He’s pretty sure it was Eret.

That makes Schlatt’s grin drop off his face, makes his expression go dark and angry. He smacks a hand against the podium's surface and shouts into the microphone, talking above everyone like the challenge to his authority could not go unanswered. “Effective immediately! All citizens of L’Manberg-”

Niki’s voice is a clear bell above the quieting crowd. She’s standing on a chair and though she’s getting a few odd looks, most are ignoring her in favor of watching Schlatt. “You have no right to do that, Schlatt!” she calls out and the way Schlatt’s eyes narrow on her, how his lips curl up, makes Tommy want to drag Niki back to some semblance of safety.

Schlatt’s eyes skate over her and regard the rest of the crowd, continuing as if he’d not been interrupted at all, “-are required, required!” He bangs a hand down again. Tommy winces at the way it rattles the podium. “To help tear down the walls of this country.” And then Schlatt’s smirking again, leaning against the podium and relaxing. “This ends the second presidential speech. Let’s get to work.” he says and turns and walks off through the back curtains. Quackity glances between Schlatt’s disappearing back and the crowd before trotting after Schlatt. Tubbo lingers a bit longer before backing up and departing as well.

The crowd doesn’t immediately disperse. Most mingle and chatter and the noise will probably help them as much getting out as in.

Wilbur doesn’t appear immediately concerned with getting out of there, rather shoving himself up to his feet and running his hands through his hair. “Who does he think he is?” Wilbur snarls. Turning his back on the crowd, he begins to pace back and forth across the roof.

Tommy leans back on his hands, legs still hanging over the edge of the roof and he keeps a casual eye on Wilbur, figures he’ll let him spill his emotions now and get it over with, so he doesn’t have to worry about it as they try and make their escape. Most of his attention remains on the crowd, watching for any sign that they’ve been spotted-

His head snaps up as he catches a flash of green just on the edge of his vision. Wilbur’s still muttering in the background but Tommy can’t make out what he’s saying as all of his focus lasers in on the rooftop of the building dead across from them.

Dream crouches on the very edge of the roof and his mask is directly facing Tommy. So, while it’s impossible to tell and that’s what Tommy hates the most about Dream, he’s pretty sure that he’s looking right at him.

“Um…?” he trails off before he even gets started. He’s, well, this whole day has been one huge, confusing mess and this just takes the cake. What the fuck was he doing in L’Manberg?

Before he can even really consider pointing him out to Wilbur, Dream gives him a two finger salute, bastard, pushes himself up onto his feet and strolls casual as can be to the opposite edge of the roof and drops off it.

God, he’s surrounded by freaks.

“Tommy?” Tommy’s hands twitch. He hadn’t even heard Wilbur approach with how focused he’d been on the oddity. “Did you say something?”

Tommy sighs, gives a final look over at the opposite roof, and shakes his head. At least Wilbur seems to have calmed down. “No.” he scoots back away from the roof’s edge and hefts himself up, swatting at Wilbur’s hand when it latches onto the back of his shirt. He’s not about to pitch himself over the edge of the building. “We should get going, right?” he asks, brushing dirt off the seat of his pants.

“Yeah.” Wilbur agrees, but now that he’s no longer indignant his eyes are fixed longingly on the crowd below. Wilbur wasn’t a man made for isolation. “Yeah, Tommy, let’s get out of here, we’ve got-got things to do.” His steps are a little shaky as he turns around and Tommy watches him with narrowed eyes.

Tommy keeps a close eye on him as they descend from the building, going so far as to shove past him in a pretense of impatience so that he could go down the ladder first. It wouldn’t do them any good if Wilbur got his dumb arse killed by losing his footing on a stupid ladder. At least this way Tommy would be there to catch him.

Wilbur’s foot catches on the last rung and he goes toppling backwards and Tommy stands back and watches him teetering back to his feet, arms crossed and just praying that they make it back to the horses before Techno’s predicted crash takes full effect.

He really, really, doesn’t want to have to drag an unconscious Wilbur anywhere, ever again.

But even he knows a losing battle when he sees one and they haven’t even hit the river bank, their barely back on the other side of the White House, when Wilbur stumbles again. He doesn’t fall on his face, thank God, but he doesn’t recover well from the stumble. He stands still, jaw tight and brows furrowed, eyes intense as he stares at the ground ahead as if that’s where everything has gone wrong.

Wilbur takes a breath and then takes a few steps, fists clenched. He looks like he’s only moving through sheer force of will and even then it’s like he’s in slow motion, his eyes are fixed on his feet, and he sways dangerously with each stride.

Tommy really considers letting him fall prey to his own hubris, once again. But he can be the bigger man and he goes to Wilbur’s side and pulls his arm over his shoulders and wraps his own arm around Wilbur’s waist. Wilbur slumps onto him without hesitation, there’s no wariness, none of the paranoia that’s been infecting their interactions since Wilbur woke up.

Wilbur mumbles, words slurring together, “How can they all cheer for him…?” and promptly passes out. Tommy grunts when he’s got all of Wilbur’s gangly limbs to contend with and he flashes back to nearly a day spent wandering through the woods with a bleeding, unconscious Wilbur. For a second, as he shifts Wilbur so he can get a better grip on him, he could swear his hands feel sticky. He almost drops Wilbur as he checks for blood on them both.

He doesn’t even realize they’re no longer alone until he hears a quiet, disbelieving, “Tommy?” And his head shoots up and he’d been so preoccupied with Wilbur that he hadn’t even noticed her approach.

Across from him stands Niki, hands folded over her mouth and eyes wide. Tommy drags them both a few steps backwards and darts a look around them. If Niki had spotted them, who else might have? This was such a stupid idea, why did he ever listen to Wilbur-?

“No, Tommy...” He looks back at her with wide eyes and she’s holding out a hand to him, the other clutched to her chest. “I’m not- God, what do you think I’m going to do?” Good question. He has no idea. She could be working with Schlatt or Quackity, she could call someone for backup and what’s Tommy supposed to do then-

He shakes his head as he realizes what he’s thinking. No. He’s not going to start thinking like Wilbur. One of them has to be capable of trusting people. “Can you help us?” he asks, hating how weak he sounds. But he can’t fix this by himself.

He can’t seem to do anything on his own.

“Of course.” she says and when she closes the distance between them this time, Tommy forces himself not to move. She comes up on the side of Wilbur Tommy isn’t already supporting and tucks herself right up under his arm. Her being shorter than both of them makes it a bit difficult to maneuver, but it’s enough to have someone helping with any of Wilbur’s jumble of limbs. It also makes the constricting in Tommy’s chest chill out a little. Make it feel less like he’s being chased all over again.

Niki takes the first steps forward and Tommy just follows her lead, he’s not sure where she’s going to take them, but anywhere is better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a heck of a time with some of these transitions between scenes but here we go boys! Sorry if there's mistakes or anything, if I even try to do more than a cursory edit on these my brains might melt.  
> Oh! And the visit from our favorite green boi is brought to you by all the animatics I watch that has him just chilling watching Schlatt's speeches. Like, I love the idea that he's just got nothing better to do than watch this all fall apart haha  
> Hope you all enjoy :)


	7. Interlude One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go with the first interruption to our regularly scheduled chapters. Interludes are essentially going to be POVs outside of the regular narrators, Tommy and Techno, that hopefully help move the story along later down the line! I've had some of the dialogue in this written up for awhile and I'm excited to finally get to use it :)
> 
> So, hope you all enjoy BBH having an...interesting day.

When Bad first stumbles across the old blood trail when trying to track down Dream for George, his heart immediately drops. Dream has pulled some stupid stunts sure, but it’s been a long time since he’s done anything truly reckless. This is-this is-

Bad shakes his head. He can’t start thinking of the worst just yet. This trail could lead to anything. Even monsters bleed after all. But, well, the tracker in him is telling him that though the fluid has darkened to a gross brown, it isn’t of the right quality to belong to a creature of the night. He brushes his fingers across a patch of it and brings it up to his nose. No stinging scent of gunpowder, not coagulated like an undead’s might, it could be a raider, they were indistinguishable to mortals, but...he couldn’t know for sure unless he checked it out.

He takes a steadying breath and then puts all the skills he has to the test. Following what appears to be a days old trail wouldn’t be easy, or even potentially possible, for the average person, but Bad isn’t just anyone. He’s tracked Dream across realms and been successful more than once, a trail like this, with actual clues to follow, is a piece of cake for Bad.

He expects to find almost anything at the end of that trail as he picks his way through the forest, eyes sharp as he catches signs of broken foliage and squashed flowers and more dried, dark brown splotches. And the further he gets, the more he’s convinced that this can’t be Dream. Dream would not leave this much of a trail behind him. No way.

Well, and when Bad reaches the treeline, the trail peters off but that’s because the forest becomes a scattering of trees becomes a wide swath of plains. He sticks to the shadows as much as he can while edging forward to get a better look at the wide space the trails leads into.

And, there, in the middle of all that space is a series of fenced in fields and at the center of all those fields is a little unassuming house and a classically red barn.

Bad hums and shifts his weight, lingering just where the trees become too far apart to make for good hiding spots. He’ll stick out like a sore thumb if he makes a beeline for that farm.

But he knows, if he were someone wounded and bleeding in the middle of nowhere and he saw a place that would likely keep him safe from whatever monsters lurked in the forest, he would head right for it.

He scratches a hand through his hair and sighs before adjusting his hood and creeping into the open area, doing his best to stay sneaky as he crossed to the farm.

All he spots as he slips through the gaps between fence railings are animals. He can see evidence of someone existing in the space in the well worn path and the general health of the animals but he doesn’t see anyone hanging around. So he continues his cautious creeping across this farm. He’s not sure why he’s so hesitant when it’s likely he’ll just end up spooking a poor farmer.

He’s just.

He’s got a bad feeling.

He reaches the side of the house and is about to pull himself up onto the roof to lay in what for whoever might appear when something on the clothesline strung between the house and barn catches his eye.

In the mix of shirts and pants made of much finer fabric is a dark blue jacket, stained and threadbare, with a few patches, at the elbows, one at a wrist, and another at the hip. Well loved, clearly, but...out of place-

Wait.

He squints and gets closer. White buckles at the wrists, brass buttons, he knows that jacket-

He jumps when he feels something snag on his sleeve. He glance down, expecting a hand or something, the person who owns the property finally showing themselves, instead he finds a...fish...hook…?

He gasps as he’s pulled on and stumbles a step backwards. He tries to resist and pull back, follow the silvery line back to its owner, but there’s a small chuckle followed by an even sharper yank and Bad goes tumbling backwards. He rolls to a stop tangled in fishing line and at someone’s feet.

“Did you just fish me?” he yelps as he pulls at the lines around him.

There’s a snort and Bad stops struggling with the line long enough to turn his attention to the person who’s put him in this situation and is still just standing over him, arms crossed, and-

He about jumps out of his skin when he meets the man’s eyes through-through a skull, of all things! And when he puts the whole image of the man together, eerie mask, a pink braid falling over one shoulder, sharp smirk, and shimmering broad sword at his hip, Bad knows exactly who he’s looking at and his heart sinks.

“Oh,” he laughs and tries for casual though he starts fighting with the fishing line again, “hey...Technoblade.” Which only seems to amuse the man more. Bad wants to take a closer look at the fishing line holding him hostage, but now he’s afraid to take his eyes off of Techno. He’s never been a predictable one, after all, and Bad doesn’t want to see what he’s capable of. Dream had been ‘inconsolable’ - meaning he had been seeking reassurance from the lot of them but had made himself the biggest nuisance of all times while doing so - after having it out with Technoblade the last time. Between that and the whole L’Manberg thing, Bad’s pretty sure that’s why Dream’s run off again.

“Been awhile.” Techno says and then crouches beside him, setting his fishing pole aside and resting his elbow on his knee and chin in his hand. He sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t know why everyone thinks they can just...walk onto a property.” Well, they probably would be more hesitant if they knew there was a monster inside rather than out! Bad should have trusted his gut. He knew it. “The fence’s there for a reason.” he mutters and stares off towards the boundary of the property, Bad relaxes some when he’s no longer pinned by his stare and tries to wiggle his slowly loosening hand free. “Really should’ve gotten a dog, bet they’d work on more than just children.” he says mostly nonsensically and Bad’s brows are furrowed.

Children? What kind of children does Techno have running around that he’s trying to keep out-

“Oh my god.” he bursts out before thinking better of it. Techno’s attention is back on him but Bad can’t even be intimidated when he’s too busy laughing. “You’re talking about Tommy. That’s why that jacket is on your clothesline.” He snorts and clutches his midsection with the hand he’d managed to free. “I bet he hates that.”

Techno lets out another long breath and rubs his hands over his face beneath the skull and he sounds exhausted and that’s just about as funny as the rest of it. “Why is the only one who’s worried about me, the only one who shouldn’t be?” he groans and Bad wants to know what that means.

Bad struggles up into a sitting position, using his single arm to prop himself up. “So, they’re really here?” he asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. He hadn’t been there the night the results had been read to the whole of L’Manberg, but from what he’d heard from George after the fact, it had been...rough. Bad’s considered more than once that Dream is coaxing George into chasing after him just to get him away from the mess of L’Manberg. He doesn’t have any proof but...he’s got a feeling.

He’s learning to listen to those.

And while really his allegiances lay with Dream and the SMP, hearing about someone getting brutally run out of their own home will never be fun for him. “Are they okay?” he asks when Techno looks away from him and doesn’t answer right away.

He can’t see Techno rolls his eyes but he can get the hint when combined with the tone of his voice. “Surprised you would care either way.” he says and doesn’t confirm nor deny their presence on the farm. Bad’s sure he would have heard Tommy by now if he was around, unless...unless something bad had happened. Sure, Tommy could be obnoxious at times and he had a mouth on him like no other, but Bad wouldn’t want to see him hurt-

So caught up in thoughts of what could have happened to Tommy, ad doesn’t realize what Techno’s implying at first. And when he does process the words, he winces. “You’ve heard about the revolution?” he asks with a grimace. Probably not any of their best moments, if Bad’s honest. He’s pretty sure that Sapnap and Dream don’t have any regrets over the war, except maybe losing, and George seems to have settled into a place within L’Manberg himself in the end, but Bad looks back sometimes and...wonders.

Techno huffs and pulls a dagger out of his boot and Bad starts scrambling backwards, unsure what lines he’s crossed to get this sort of reaction, but Techno merely gives him a look that makes him feel like an idiot and casually slices through the lines connecting Bad to the pole. But he doesn’t do anything to help untangle Bad and just pushes himself up to his feet. “Heard a few things.” he says and shoves his fishing pole back into the bag at his hip. He shrugs but the slight tilt to his lips gives Bad the distinct impression that he’s amused as Bad continues to wrestle with the line, much more successfully now that there’s two loose ends. “Not sure how I feel about the whole thing, yet. I’m reserving full judgement until someone feels like giving me the whole story.” Techno says this all as he turns and walks away, just abandoning Bad to his fate.

Bad nods and manages to free his other arm and after that it’s easy to get his legs loose and chase after Technoblade. “Come on!” Bad calls, struggling to catch up with Techno who’s just as unreasonably tall as just about everyone else Bad knows. Unfair. “You’ve got an opinion about everything and no way Tommy kept his mouth shut about the whole thing if he was here even for just a day.” he reasons and stumbles to a stop when Techno does.

Techno sighs and turns back to him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed again. “I don’t know everything that went down.” he says again, but it’s more of a preface this time and Bad waits, fiddling with his sleeves and sweating both under the bright sun and the intensity of Techno’s stare. “But, if I know anything, if Wilbur truly didn’t want to fight a war, he wouldn’t have. That simple.” Bad blinks and tilts his head, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out exactly what Techno is trying to tell him with this. At his expression, Techno shifts his weight from one foot to the other and shrugs. “There’s only one person who has a chance of making Wilbur Soot do something he doesn’t want to and last I checked he’s not even in this realm. Wilbur doesn’t get backed into corners. He figures out the most favorable outcome for him and then puts himself in the position most likely to get him there.” He...Techno can’t be saying what Bad thinks he is. There’s no way. No one would kick off a whole war just as a means to an end. No way.

“I…” Bad shakes his head and hugs himself. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.” he admits. Techno frowns and Bad says quickly, “I don’t know Wilbur that well, but...but that’s.” He can’t put together proper sentences and he stops himself from stumbling on, instead taking a few deep breaths and trying again. “Him and the others nearly lost the war, if it hadn’t been for Tommy giving up his prized possessions, there wouldn’t be a L’Manberg.”

Techno watches him a moment longer before nodding and starting to walk towards the gate again. “What do I know.” he says and he sounds tired and Bad sort of feels bad about not believing him. It’s just such a wild claim to make, especially since Bad knows how badly the war went for Wilbur and the rest of the L’Manbergians. Between failed plans and safehouses, betrayal, more than one instance of utter defeat, Bad can’t imagine anyone looking at that and thinking that the person on the losing side had put themselves there on purpose. Techno pulls open the gate and gives Bad a stern look and Bad accepts this not so subtle dismissal and walks past the boundary, standing outside of the fence and leaving Techno on his property. “But consider this, Bad,” he says as he’s shutting the gate on Bad and working on re-securing it, “who did Wilbur spend the most time working with, back in the Guild? And why wouldn’t Wilbur know better when it comes to Schlatt.”

“Uh…?” Bad starts but Technoblade doesn’t stick around to hear him out. Bad’s...not sure to do with the information he’s just been given. He doesn’t even know if he can trust Techno to be telling the truth or if he’s just sowing the seeds of chaos like always.

Bad chews on his lip and stares at Techno’s retreating back and realizes that he didn’t even figure out if Tommy and Wilbur were actually on the property or not.

He groans and turns back for the forest. He’s got-he’s got to tell someone about this.

Sorry, George, but he’ll have to get back to tracking Dream down later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, second author's note, wow!  
> This is mostly to say that I don't think I've mentioned yet, but if you ever want to yell about mcyt or ask questions about this story in particular, you can find me on tumblr @caissymax
> 
> Have a great day out there!


	8. Chapter 7

Tommy rescinds his previous thought and digs his heels in at the same time. Fuck getting help. Fuck Wilbur Soot! He can’t curse Niki because being mean to Niki has to be a crime somewhere. But he doesn’t want to do this anymore. No way.

Niki gives him a look around Wilbur and Tommy frowns right back because surely if she’s starting it, he’s allowed to give as good as he gets? “Tommy,” she says in a stern tone, “where else are you going to go?”

Back into the river is looking pretty good to him, he wants to say, but instead he just groans and doesn’t weigh them down again as Niki tugs the both of them across the bridge and into the Pride Palace.

Its bright flag waves and snaps proudly in the wind and Tommy wishes he hadn’t left the farm.

“Eret!” Niki calls as she leaves all of Wilbur’s weight to Tommy in order to shove the large wooden doors open. Tommy keeps a careful eye on his surroundings. He doesn’t know this place. He’s not comfortable here and worst of all-

“Niki?” Eret’s voice sounds out and he helps her pull the door fully open. He’s a sight to see for sure. It’s the first time Tommy’s laid eyes on him since the duel for L’Manberg and it’s...almost surreal.

Just like usual his eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses. Tommy’s considered trying to snatch them off before, curious what he could possibly be hiding behind them, but there are just some lines that you don’t cross. Some new additions to his wardrobe, however, are a red cape, billowing from his shoulders to his boots and, very pompous of him, a shining gold crown, encrusted with a multitude of jewels that Tommy would never even be able to name.

Tommy squints at him, shifting himself subtly in front of Wilbur. Even with the upgrade, just having to look at Eret’s face again flashes him back to the explosion. How they were all scattered. Shocked and scorched and horrified as they realized what had happened. How he had spent precious minutes unable to locate Wilbur or Tubbo. How he had been sure that he was all that was left and that he was all alone all over again-

Some of Wilbur’s weight shifts off his shoulder again and he blinks over at Niki, who’s giving him a look he can’t quite decipher. Somehow, during his momentary lapse in concentration, Eret has once again disappeared.

Tommy, seeing no other choice in all this, decides that he’ll be the one to make the decision to move forward and leads their pacing as him and Niki drag Wilbur into the castle. Wilbur is not going to be happy when he wakes up, of that, Tommy’s certain.

The interior of the castle is sparse in decoration and furniture, but what it lacks in those departments, it more than makes up for not only in space, but, for some reason, in people. Tommy goes tense all over again when he realizes how many people are surrounding him and it’s only the fact that he’s already come this far and that Niki’s starting to pull on him again from Wilbur’s other side, that keeps him from walking right back out the way they came.

Eret appears again as they walk into a large room that has multiple different doors branching off to other parts of the castle. The conversations have slowly started petering off around them and Tommy can feel all of the eyes on him now and he hates it. He glares at anyone who dares to meet his eyes and tilts his chin up in a challenge. A dare. He’s been invited here and anyone who has a problem with that will just have to deal with it.

Eret leads them towards one of the halls further towards the back of the room and just as they’re about to walk through, two children come tumbling across the richly colored carpet to rest at their feet. Both stare up at them with wide eyes and look like they’re afraid they’re about to get the scolding of a lifetime. But Eret crouches down in front of them and Tommy can’t see his face from this angle, but whatever it is has the kids relaxing a little, smiles growing across their round cheeks once more.

“You’ve got to be careful around here.” Eret says and helps one little girl up to her feet before doing the same for the other. “Lots of people moving around, imagine what would happen if you actually got under someone’s feet?”

“We’ll be more careful!” One girl chirps and when the other only giggles into her hands, the first nudges her until the second girl echoes the sentiment. And then both are off like a shot all over again.

Tommy watches them both run off and when he blinks he sees a different pair of children. There’s a hollow pang of longing in his chest and he swallows it desperately back down.

Eret pushes himself back up and waves them forward again. “Come on, I’ve got a spare room you can put him up in for however long you need.”

“Where did all these people come from?” Tommy finally can’t hold back the question as another couple of ladies skirt around them in the hall. Their eyes go wide and they begin whispering when their eyes land on Wilbur between them. It only serves to set Tommy further on edge. 

Eret hesitates. Tommy hates that. Eret bites his lip and seems to be deciding very obviously if he wants to tell the truth or not. Tommy glares and snaps, “Just spit it out!”

And Eret sighs, scratching at the back of his neck over the pretentious collar of his cape. “A lot of people got spooked after Wilbur lost the election. Veterans of the revolution mostly.” Oh. Tommy glances over a few more of the people around them and...yeah, now that he knows what he’s looking for, some of their faces begin to take on familiar shapes. “They started showing up at my doorstep pretty soon after the results and, well, I’ve got room to spare so most of them have been staying here.” He hesitates, again, before murmuring, “It’s been pretty good seeing some old faces again. Having some company around here.”

And Tommy doesn’t want to feel bad for the bastard traitor, but that’s about the saddest thing he’s heard. And the look on his face is just pitiful. Disgusting. Tommy sniffs and focuses back ahead and scowls when he sees Niki’s smile out of the corner of his eye. And because he’s never learned to keep his mouth shut, and likely never will, he scoffs and says, “Well, you’d have plenty of company if you hadn’t bartered us away to get...here.” He waves his free hand to gesture to the big, empty halls they’re trekking through, the fact that the only people with him are refugees of the nation he betrayed, and the fact that the man he had made a deal with for this position was gone with the wind if what Wilbur had hinted at before was correct. And Tommy isn’t a fool either. He knows he only saw Dream because Dream wanted him to.

Eret sighs and his shoulders slump as he comes to a stop in front of a door. He pulls a ring of keys out from within his cape and begins sorting through the multiple that jangled against each other. His hands are shaking and he fumbles the keys and they go clattering to the floor. Eret doesn’t bend down to pick them up, instead rubbing his hands over his face, skewing his sunglasses, and groaning.

He pauses and looks back over his shoulder and seems to hesitate before slowly pushing those sunglasses all the way up into his hair, and Tommy isn’t ashamed to say he gapes when he sees his eyes for the first time. Entirely white and...almost glowing? Squinting as if he’s staring straight into the sun instead of standing in a dim corridor. He meets Tommy’s eyes dead on and says, one hand pressed over the left side of his chest like he’s making a vow, “Tommy, if I could go back and change the decisions I made during the revolution, I would, in a heartbeat.” Tommy opens his mouth to argue and Eret shakes his head. “You don’t have to believe me. I didn’t expect you to, but I needed to say it, so that I can work towards proving it to you,” he gives a slight glance towards Wilbur, “and hopefully to everyone else as well.”

Tommy’s not sure that that’ll ever happen, but he nods nonetheless. He can listen to whatever Eret feels like spouting, it doesn’t mean he has to follow through on anything he hears.

Eret nods as well, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes and crouching down to retrieve the keys. And he makes quick work of finding the correct key and opening the door for them. He holds it open until they have Wilbur all the way past the threshold and then retreats without a word, closing the door behind him. Tommy watches him go with narrowed eyes, but his focus quickly returns to Wilbur and getting him settled into the bed.

Tommy pulls Wilbur’s boots off and Niki tugs the covers up nearly to his chin and while she situates herself on the bed in an empty space beside Wilbur’s legs, Tommy remains standing.

Waiting.

Niki brushes her hand across the bedspread, trying to smooth out wrinkles that weren’t even there, she stares down at her hand before looking up at him. The concern on her face is both evident immediately and grating. Tommy goes stock still under her stare, arms crossed over his chest and frowning. He feels like he’s being scrutinized and while he’s sure Niki has nothing but the best intentions, he doesn’t like not knowing what she’s seeing in him. “Tommy…” Niki starts and Tommy lets out a heavy breath through his nose. “...what happened to you two?”

Tommy looks away from her and out the window, staring out over the land he’d once considered a home as well. He wonders if it really isn’t meant to be. If, no matter how much he tries, he’s destined to be separated from everything he considers a home.

“You were there for the results.” he says. He does not want to relive that night again. He rubs his thumb against his fingers and has to look down to reassure himself that it’s not actually sticky. He rubs his hands against his pants anyway. But hopefully Niki just thinks he’s got...sweaty palms or something. “I’m sure it’s pretty clear what happened to us.” he mutters.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” she says and he still doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t like how soft she’s speaking. Like-like she thinks she’s going to spook him or something! Tommy faces things head on though, he doesn’t spook. He hears the bed creak and assumes she’s on her feet now. “Where did you go? How did you get through the night?” Her hand comes to rest on his arm and he absolutely doesn’t flinch at the contact. “You know you didn’t have to go so far, we would’ve found a way to help you.”

Tommy looks from where her hand lays on his bicep and then finally meets her eyes again. He could feel himself cracking. God, it was almost as bad as with Tubbo. But...he’s not going to be the one that leads this drama back to Techno. Well, not on purpose.

He shrugs and looks back out the window. “I dragged Wilbur out into the forest just off the border of the SMP and L’Manberg.” he says and he’s not lying. He’s just not...going to tell her every little minute detail about their escape. “Sent our horse one way and doubled back and went the other, found a village that was willing to hide us and help-help heal Wilbur.” He glances over at Wilbur without meaning to. He hates that Wilbur’s back to laying in a bed, still except for the rise and fall of his chest.

“Is...is he still injured?” she asks, chewing on her lip and squeezing Tommy’s arm tighter. She’s watching Wilbur, same as him, now.

Tommy only feels a little bad as he scoffs and shakes his head. “No, he’s perfectly fine now, except for the whole,” he waves to how Wilbur is passed out, “and being one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” He lets his voice take on an almost mournful edge. “Shame, really. To see a rising world leader crippled so young by his own idiocy.”

Niki giggles and then tries to stifle her laughter with her hand and Tommy grins despite himself. Nailed it! But the mirth in her expression doesn’t last long. Though she at least moves to a new line of questioning. “What are you planning to do next?” she asks.

Tommy shrugs and makes an uncertain noise. “Don’t know about long term plans, but I’m probably going to scavenge some supplies from my old house before we leave.”

That draws Niki up short and she’s looking at him with wide, sad eyes again and he’s scrambling to figure out what he’s said wrong when she hesitantly asks, “You’re planning on leaving again?”

Tommy pauses and realizes that he hadn’t even considered not returning to Technoblade’s farm. It feels like his brain short circuits for a second as he forces himself to really think about staying instead of making another retreat.

He wants to be able to stay near L’Manberg. Near his home and his friends and the place that may as well contain his heart and soul with how much of himself he’s put into it. If he can’t have L’Manberg then maybe the SMP was close enough for now. They could take refuge in this place, same as their people clearly are. But there lies the first hurdle.

Having to rely on this place to house them means relying on Eret. And coming to Eret after they had worked so hard to prove that they hadn’t needed him to begin with was a blow to Tommy’s pride he wasn’t sure he could take. And even if they were to take Eret out of the equation and just hunker down somewhere within the SMP, there was no way that someone with a grudge from the war wouldn’t rat them out the second they were spotted.

He shakes his head. There was a reason he hadn’t thought about staying. His subconscious knew better than he did apparently. “You know if we stay anywhere near L’Manberg, we’ll spend more time trying to stay hidden than getting things done.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And if Schlatt found out you were helping us, he’d start targeting you-”

“You think that man scares me?” Niki snaps and then gasps, hands flying up to cover her mouth as if she couldn’t believe her own words. Tommy’s eyes go wide. Sure, he’d heard her during the presidential speech. Seen her unflinching and standing tall beneath Schlatt’s stare, but he hadn’t realized how affected she really was.

God, he was so stupid. Stupid, selfish bastard. He’d been so focused on him and Wilbur, and Tubbo before he’d left them, that he hadn’t even stopped to think about the others. They may be the ones that are being hunted down but when he really looked at Niki, when he considered the nervous fear of those who shared a stage with Schlatt, an argument could probably be made that they weren’t seeing the worst of things. They aren’t under Schlatt’s thumb and that’s its own sort of relief.

Tommy hesitates, unsure if it’s his place or not, but finally makes himself ask, “Are...you okay, Niki?”

She lets out a heavy breath and crosses her arms, staring down at the floor instead of Tommy, and then she’s the one to walk away from him this time. “I just…” she starts and then rubs her hands through her hair and makes a frustrated noise. “Have we not fought enough.” she demands seemingly of fate itself. “Are we doomed to forever be locked in a struggle for peace?”

Tommy...doesn’t know what to say to that. That’s way too heavy of a question for him to even begin to put words to. He approaches cautiously. “I’m sure it’s only some growing pains, typical of a brand new nation!” is his first attempt, an effort at easing the furrow between her brows that falls horribly flat. Tommy chews on his lip and pulls at his sleeves. His second is a quiet confession of, “I don’t know.” and he hates how vulnerable he sounds. He hates that it’s true just as much, because that uncertainty terrifies him. Will he ever be able to walk around without a weapon in his pockets? Without armor covering his vital areas? Will he spend his whole life looking over his shoulder and wondering who has it out for him this week?

He doesn’t know.

Niki meets his eyes and hers are just as wet as his and her words are wobbly as she murmurs, “Oh, Tommy.” and throws her arms around him. She buries her face in his shoulder, which quickly grows damp. He’s unsure of what to do with his hands for just a moment before he tentatively squeezes her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. He takes a few deep breaths and wonders when he got so soft.

Hmmm...he thinks he’ll blame Tubbo. Not like he’s here to argue.

* * *

Niki agrees to watch over Wilbur while Tommy goes to both scavenge and take care of some things, though she doesn’t seem particularly happy letting him run off on his own. But they can both agree that they can’t leave Wilbur alone in an unknown place, especially with that place being Eret’s castle, and Tommy will be able to get in and out faster on his own. So, Tommy promises to be safe and return soon and he goes.

On his way out of the castle, he gets stopped by more than a few of the people wandering about and though most cautiously ask how him and Wilbur are doing, if they’re safe, if Wilbur’s okay, there are some that whisper their support and sympathies. Familiar faces that Tommy remembers fighting alongside and, though Tommy didn’t ask for this either, it doesn’t feel good, seeing the exhaustion and worry on these people’s faces and then hear them still willing to fight. These people had followed them for freedom and yet here they were, stuck seeking safety in the land that they had fled to begin with.

Tommy, channeling the parts of him that had been responsible for assisting the coordination of a war, hands out reassurance like candy. Travels from person to person, conversation to conversation and doesn’t leave until he’s sure he’s left some hope behind him.

If he looks up at one point and catches Eret watching him from up on a balcony, he simply narrows his eyes and moves on. He’s got too many things to do to spare a second on Eret.

The hike across the SMP from Eret’s castle to Tommy’s own home turned hideaway isn’t a short one by any means. They may as well have been on as opposite sides of the SMP’s territory as possible. And with the consideration of his house being deep within enemy territory - because unlike what most wanted to believe it’s not exactly easy to uproot an entire household - he knows he’s not going to be able to take the most direct route there anyway.

But Tommy has eventualities upon eventualities and he’s figured out a few systems of his own to get there nearly as fast and, even better, unnoticed.

He sighs as he hands off the ladder with one hand and shoves at the trapdoor open with the other. He pushes it open just enough to peek out into the surrounding forest, just to be sure he’s alone, before he pushes it all the way open and scrambles out. He stays crouched, certainly hidden among the underbrush, as he slowly closes and camouflages the trapdoor with the leaf litter. He’s not even sure he would be able to track his way back to this spot if he had to, but that just makes it well hidden, and he likely wouldn’t even come back this way if he could. Choosing another one of his shortcuts only worked to guarantee that he’s difficult to track were anyone to try.

He leaves the shortcut behind and picks his way through the foliage until he comes upon the sliver of a path carved as naturally as possible through the trees. Looking more like a game trail than one man made which, once again, was what he was going for at the end of the day.

He follows the path the rest of the way back until it opens up into a clearing where his house is nestled, tucked away from the rest of the world.

Before he takes one step into the clearing, he crouches down and reaches behind one of the trees on the path and flips a lever. He steps over the trip wire strung from one tree to another and skips to dodge pressure plates, going through the steps as he makes his way to the front door.

He’d spent a long time working on this space to make it as secure as possible, and he’s proud of everything he had managed to accomplish. It was a place where he felt safe and where he knew his valuables would be difficult for anyone to get their hands on.

...but it wasn’t a home to him anymore.

He rests a hand on the doorframe and stares at the wood, unmoving, for a long moment.

After nearly sacrificing his place at Wilbur’s side to stay here, to be able to return here, this place isn’t anything more than a glorified shed in his mind. He’s only returning now to scavenge any supplies he might have left behind.

And, he pushes himself back and heads for the back of the house instead of immediately inside, there’s one more thing he’s here for.

Tommy’s grinning even before he rounds the corner and he’s moving so fast now that he doesn’t even bother to slow down to fiddle with the fence gate. Instead using the railings like steps and pulling himself up and over. He lands with barely a sound on the overgrown grass but still one fuzzy ear flicks towards him, a small acknowledgement of his presence that has him bouncing across the field, arms pinwheeling when his foot catches on an uneven patch of ground. He manages to catch himself against the side of the cow and lets out an exclamation of, “Henry!” to which the cow doesn’t even twitch.

The behemoth of a cow swishes his tail and continues to graze without even a side eye towards Tommy. But that’s fine because that just means that Henry’s still enough for Tommy to bury his face into his fluffy coat, slinging both arms over the cow’s back and letting the old boy take on most of his own weight. “I didn’t mean to leave you so long.” he says into the cow’s thick fur, shaking his head. He’ll always be glad that he had the forethought to ensure that, worse come to worse, Henry wouldn’t have to rely on him to survive until someone else came and found him. He sighs and pushes himself upright, patting the cow’s flank. “Let’s see if there’s any hay still laying around.” he decides with a firm nod and heads for the door that connects the house to the pasture.

He goes through the steps again and pauses before opening the door. He unloops a bit of string and keeps the tension on it as shifts it over to a hook beside the door. Then he digs his key out and unlocks the door, shoving it open with a shoulder.

He waves away the dust that kicks up with the door's swing and shuts it behind him. Wouldn’t want Henry trying to wander into the house after all.

His house is nothing more than a two room shack. One that contains his bed and e-chest and the other that’s split partially in half, one containing the rest of his chests and items and the other that could be a kitchen, but mostly just stores the occasional foodstuffs and mostly random junk.

Tommy dives head first into sorting through his chests to get an idea of what exactly he’s still got laying around.

And he freezes in the middle of digging through a chest. He slowly, very slowly, pushes himself up as a chill races down his spine. The wall is at his front and the rest of the room leaving his back open and exposed. He reaches back for his sword and spins around at the same time, the point of his sword coming nearly to rest against green fabric.

And there stands Dream, not even armed, hands tucked away in the mass of fabric that makes up his cloak. The bastard doesn’t even have the decency to pretend that he’s worried about Tommy skewering him. Doesn’t even bother trying to avoid the swinging blade. It makes Tommy mad, how confident Dream is. How easily he moves through the world around him.

“Hello, Tommy.” Dream says and that’s all it takes for Tommy’s good mood to vanish as quick as it had come. He’s not even sure going back out and visiting with Henry again would bring him back from this one.

Dread sinks in his gut as he realizes what Dream being here means. A safety net ripped out from under him with one clean pull. Tommy scowls and his hand certainly isn’t shaking as he faces down a threat to the last thing Tommy really, really cares about.

Tommy runs through the layout of his traps again and again and he just...doesn’t get it. Dream shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be here. Everything had been just as Tommy had left it the last time he’d been here.

Tommy presses the sword further into Dream’s chest, just to show he isn’t playing, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps. 

Dream shrugs and his head turns away from Tommy. It’s more than a little insulting being given so little regard.

And then Dream places his hand against the flat of Tommy’s blade and pushes it away from him. Tommy wants to resist but instead he grits his teeth and lets it happen. He’s itching for a fight to answer for the insult but he sighs and sheaths his sword, though he tucks his hands right back into his pockets. He doesn’t have anything to give him the edge he would need in a fight against Dream. Though, he fingers the lip of the glass bottle Techno had given him and keeps it in mind.

Just in case.

Dream holds up his hands. “I’m just here to talk, Tommy.” And he walks over and hops up onto the top of a chest, curling one leg up against his chest and leaving the other to swing, bouncing his heel in hollow thumps against the chest. Tommy grits his teeth and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, like I’ll fall for that.” Tommy scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t even know where this place is, let alone be able to just waltz in!”

Dream snorts and shakes his head, tugging on the edge of his hood with one hand. “C’mon Tommy,” he laughs, “I know about everything that happens within the SMP.” Smug bastard. “You can’t hide things from me.” he says it like it’s just a matter of how the world works. The sun rises. The wind blows. Dream has the uncanny ability to keep track of everything and everyone around him.

Tommy’s hands curl into fists and he starts counting every breath in and out. He knows a useless line of conversation when he hears one. “Then what’re you here to talk about?” he asks through gritted teeth. He slowly circles around the room to put himself back by the untrapped back door and, more importantly, between Dream and Henry.

Dream twists his finger in the hem of his sleeves and his heel thump, thump, thumps against the chest. “I’m just curious what your plan is now.” And Tommy might’ve believed he was just curious if not for the obvious fact that it was Dream. No way is Dream not going to find some way to rub this situation in Tommy’s face. “After all,” Dream continues, casually and Tommy scowls, “you’re right back where you started.” And there it is. Good to know some things never change. “You’re nothing but a loud child again. How does that feel, Tommy Innit?”

Tommy’s already regretting not stabbing him when he had the chance to take a shot. Even if he would’ve lost, it would’ve been worth it to even just draw a little blood. Tommy’s also not quite sure why everyone keeps asking him what the plans are because, last time he checked, that is not his job! “Oh, don’t even start.” he snaps, wagging a finger. “You can act like some incredible ‘all-knowing’ being all you want but,” he says and stalks a few bold steps closer to Dream, “I know better Dream.” he whispers into the space between them.

Tommy can hear the raised brow in Dream’s tone. “Oh, really?” Dream lounges back against the wall and holds his hands out to either side of him, waiting. “Okay, Tommy, then tell me what you think you know so much about.”

And Tommy does just that, beginning to pace the floor, hands moving like they’ve got a mind of their own as he speaks. “You’ve already exiled Schlatt from the SMP,” he starts with, working through what he knows and the facts of the situation as he talks, “and even now that he’s in L’Manberg, I’m sure you’re not about to let him step a foot outside of it.” Tommy doesn’t need to see Dream’s face to know he has to be at least vaguely on the right tract, just the slowly tightening clench of his fists and the way his foot has gone completely still. “Which, if you really were orchestrating all of this for whatever reason,” he continues, “keeping Schlatt in line is a lot more work for you than just, say, rigging the election in favor of Quackity and getting an in through George.” He spins on his heels to face Dream and rubs his chin for the drama of it. Taking a page out of Wilbur’s book for this. “And isn’t it strange,” he ponders, though he already pretty much knows the answer, “how Schlatt’s taken over L’Manberg and, suddenly, George is nowhere to be found-?”

“Okay!” Dream loudly interjects and stands again, and Tommy’s glad to see him taking this, taking him, seriously. Which, of course, doesn’t stop Tommy from backpedaling out of slicing range. Watching Dream’s every move with a wary eye now that he’s up and mobile again. “Say whatever you want Tommy, but at the end of the day, I’m not the one who let something so important slip right through my fingers.” He moves his hand as if there’s sand falling through it.

“Are you just here to rub it in?” Tommy demands, meeting the eyes of Dream’s mask in a way that not many people bother to. But just because Tommy can’t see his eyes doesn’t mean they aren’t there. And Tommy’s never backed down from a challenge before. “Because if I wanted my every move criticized I’d just go deliver myself to Schlatt!”

Dream shrugs. “Like I said, I’m just here to see what your next move is.” His tone takes on a dry, mocking edge again. “But seeing how it sounds like you don’t have one, I guess I’ve got no reason to stick around.”

“Oh fuck off, Dream!” Tommy shouts but Dream’s attention has already moved on and he’s heading for the front door. And Dream’s already twisting the knob before Tommy remembers that that’s not the door that he’s already disabled the traps on. “Wait!” he tries to yell but it’s too late. Dream pushes the door open and Tommy braces himself for the consequences.

...but nothing happens.

Tommy blinks and glances back up and Dream’s just waiting there, radiating smugness. “Oh, and Tommy,” Dream says over his shoulder as he continues on his way and dodges through the pressure plates with an almost practiced ease, “I’d take this as a warning. Sapnap’s never far behind me.” And with that last ominous message, Dream disappears amongst the trees, green and brown attire making it so he camouflages into the forest practically immediately.

Tommy lingers in the threshold of his front door and his heart pounds against his rib cage. He can’t even-can’t even begin to think about how Dream has walked right past every one of Tommy’s precautions like they didn’t exist at all. Or even start to consider how to put them back to rights if Dream has somehow messed with them.

He glances over his shoulder and swallows. He-he needs to move Henry. He looks towards the chests and chews at his lip. He can’t just give up on the real reason behind he’s here though. They desperately need supplies and Tommy’s sure he has a few things that could be useful laying around here, if only he could find them.

He’ll just...he’ll have to work fast. That’s it. He’ll speed through his search and then get Henry out of here and somewhere he’ll be safe until Tommy can find someone to take care of him.

Yeah. It’ll all work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I had to fight through more than a few parts of this chapter, I actually like how most of it came out in the end!  
> Dream sort of tried to steal the show there at the end and then decided that he was just there to bully a child, so that's that for now haha. I also really want to make Dream more of a cryptid and play on the fact that he's got creative capabilities and stuff so we'll see how that turns out.  
> Oh also! In case anyone is curious, my ultimate picture of Henry is one of those really fluffy cows that you see on tumblr now and again.  
> Hope you all enjoy this after that amazing Finale! I know I got lots of inspiration from it :)


	9. Chapter 8

Tommy returns to the castle later than he’d meant to, exhausted and with the sun already long set. The people that had occupied the space before are mostly gone now, leaving him to really take in the large rooms and high ceilings. His steps echo as he retraces the path back to Wilbur’s room and he shivers as the stone of the walls leak a chill into the air.

He runs a hand through his hair and down over his face, blowing out a breath. His legs are heavy and all he wants is to be able to sleep for a week. He leans on the door as he pushes it open, careful to keep quiet, expecting the room to already be dark.

His brain stutters as his eye catches on dim candlelight and he blinks and rubs at his eyes, leaning back against the door to shut it behind him. He sighs, dodging the mattress made up and taking up the majority of the remaining floor space - presumably his for the night - and heads towards the half melted candle with half a mind that Niki had simply forgotten to blow it out.

He stops halfway into the room and squints. Speaking of Niki…?

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Wilbur.” Niki’s voice rings softly through the room before Tommy can get to figuring out where she’s gone.

He glances in the direction her voice had come from and, instead of finding her on the edge of Wilbur’s bed like he had left her, she’s wedged herself between Wilbur’s torso and the wall. Her knees are curled up to her chest and she’s stolen some of Wilbur’s blankets to drape over them. She’s got a hand laying on Wilbur’s shoulder and Tommy can only be grateful that Wilbur looks to be still more or less asleep.

“I’ve...I’ve got it all under-under control, Niki.” Tommy startles when Wilbur speaks. Barely a whisper and seemingly taking up most of his energy just to get his lips to move and even then his words are breathy and slurred. His eyes are closed, which means he almost certainly doesn’t realize that Tommy has intruded in on this moment.

Tommy immediately considers a tactical retreat. He’s sure that he can find somewhere else to sleep for the night. No problem. There’s got to be somewhere in this huge castle that he can settle in for the night. Anywhere that isn’t here.

But Niki’s head tilts just enough for her to meet Tommy’s eyes and she gives him a look and a small shake of her head before he can even take a step backwards.

“I don’t think that’s true.” she tells Wilbur as Tommy gingerly sits on the bed made up for him. “Under control doesn’t include passing out and making Tommy drag you around.”

Wilbur lets out a heavy breath and shifts on the bed and Tommy’s never felt more like he’s intruding. But he focuses on getting his shoes off instead of the other two in the room. “Haven’ you heard?” Wilbur mumbles. “Tommy’s a big man. He can-he can a, uh, a hiccup.”

Niki laughs and Tommy buries himself beneath the blankets on his makeshift bed. He turns his back on them and scowls. It’s easier to pretend he’s annoyed because he wants to get some sleep then acknowledge the part of him that is jealous because he misses Tubbo already.

“The problem is you passing out, not how Tommy holds up in a crisis.” Niki says and though that peaks Tommy’s interest - Techno had made this seem like it was inevitable - he remembers something more important all at once.

He digs through his pockets until he comes up with a paper and quill. He curls his knees up to write on and scribbles out a note, careful to make sure it’s still legible even as he writes fast. It’s too important not to be.

He snakes a hand out from under the blanket and sets the note on the floor beside the mattress and curls back up, determined to fall asleep.

* * *

Wilbur is still half out of it when he shoves weakly at Tommy and stumbles his way to his feet with a few stops and starts. Tommy sits back on his heels and just watches him. He’s fought Wilbur enough on this trip, if he’s so determined to go off on some other dumb mission, then Tommy will just have to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. 

Wilbur’s legs are shaking with exertion, his hands on his knees, but his eyes are burning even as he pants. “I’m going to find it.” He grits his teeth and stands fully upright and Tommy’s pretty sure joints aren’t supposed to make noises like that. “I’m going to, I’ve-I’ve got to go and watch.” He looks half out of his mind and also like he could pass back out in an instant. “I’ve got to go and look at this.”

Tommy groans, rubbing his hands over his face. Niki lingers on the edges, wringing her hands, but she still seems uncertain. Niki know a thing or two about healing, however. He won’t do this unless he gets her okay for it. “Is he good to be up and about?” he asks, glancing over at Wilbur, who scowls at him, and then back at her. “Do you think he can even make it that far?”

She searches his expression, focusing on him rather than Wilbur who’s leaning heavily against a wall as he attempts to pull his boots on. She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. She relents. “If he’s awake enough to be coherent, he should be fine.” She shifts and then says firmly. “I’ll follow you out to make sure that nothing happens, but I can’t stick around. Eret wanted to talk to me.”

Wilbur scoffs, showing that he is, in fact, paying attention to them still. “I thought you were better than this, Niki.” he shakes his head and Tommy scowls. He places himself between Niki and Wilbur, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wilbur. “What kind of L’Manbergian are you, to still talk to that traitor?”

There isn’t much that gets Niki truly upset. Even during the war, she was a force of nature in her own way. Steady and sturdy, she knew how to cry but carry on even so, but he didn’t often see her angry over something outright. Now, though, now she was angry.

She gently pushes past him and gets right up in Wilbur’s space, poking a finger into his chest. Her eyes are narrowed and her jaw is tight. “How dare you even imply something like that!” she snaps. Tommy watches with bated breath. If there was anyone Wilbur had a soft spot for, it was Niki. “This is no longer a problem of us and them! I want Schlatt out, I want my L’Manberg back, and I am willing to do anything to accomplish that.” She pushes one more time against Wilbur’s chest before backing off, breathing a little harder now, shoulders tense but head held high.

Tommy briefly, traitorously he’s pretty sure, wonders why they couldn’t have her as their president.

Wilbur’s lips twitch up at one corner but he doesn’t quite reach a sneer. He wouldn’t dare burn the bridge of every ally they had left in L’Manberg.

Would he?

“I won’t say I told you so,” he says, voice condescending, “when he turns on you a second time.”

Niki shakes her head and frowns. She’s inching towards confusion rather than anger. “Eret’s trying to repent for his mistakes.” she says with finality as she grabs her own shoes and slips them on. She has made up her mind on this and she’s going to see if through. “If he is willing to try and do what he thinks is right now then I am willing to hear him out.”

Wilbur snorts and stays leaned against the wall, which Tommy’s half sure is the only thing currently supporting him, and Tommy scrambles to follow after Niki. He’s not sure what kind of mood Wilbur has managed to wake up in, but it’s not the best Tommy’s seen.

* * *

Niki leaves them on a hill across the river from L’Manberg that gives them a good enough view of the walls that cut through the forest on one half of the island. Tommy, as he feels like he’s been since the speech, since they returned back to L’Manberg, is at a loss for words. He can’t even dig up his usual bravado.

Wilbur...is even worse off. Tommy’s pretty sure he’s already crying and if not, he’s close. Tommy can feel the stinging at his own eyes and has to swallow, once, twice, but it’s useless. He swipes at his cheeks and pulls on the ember of anger he keeps bubbling instead.

“Oh my god.” Wilbur murmurs, almost hyperventilating, one hand pressed against his mouth.

Tommy grabs onto his sleeve, attempts to pull him away from the sight. Wishes he could pull himself away from the sight. It feels like his eyes are as wide as saucers. “Wilbur, don’t.” he says, shaking him as if he could snap him out of whatever trances he’s fallen into. “Look away, Wilbur.” he begs but, as is becoming common, Wilbur doesn’t listen to him.

Wilbur doesn’t even bother to take his hand off his mouth when he finally speaks. He tries to shake Tommy off, but even if Wilbur doesn’t need something to hold onto, Tommy does. He’d never admit it out loud but he needs to know that he’s still got something left for him in this world. And Wilbur’s the only thing he has that present in the moment. “No I, I need to watch this.” he whispers. “I have to.”

So...they watch.

It would be hard enough if it was just the citizens taking pickaxes and shovels of various levels of craftsmanship to the walls that had once protected them so. But it’s made worse by the fact that there’s a man in a familiar eye catching fox mask, having pulled himself to the top of one of the walls, arms waving and clearly orchestrating the other’s below him. And then he pulls out a pickaxe himself and strikes the first block.

That’s the breaking point for Wilbur. It shakes Tommy himself to his very core. “Oh, my son!” Wilbur wails, clutching at the sides of his head as he crumples to his knees. Tommy follows him to the ground, presses himself right up against his side. He can feel his hands shaking where they’re still buried in the fabric of Wilbur’s sleeve. “My son is tearing down the walls in front of me!” he says once and then again, “My son is tearing down the walls in front of me!” Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. He really is crying now. Tommy can see the trail of tears down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. “The walls I built to keep him safe.” he whispers, hands drifting from his head to curling around his midsection, hugging himself as he curls until his forehead is nearly pressed to the ground. Tommy sets a tentative hand on his back. “I promised him this world, Tommy. I promised him this world.” he moans, shaking his head back and forth and Tommy’s sure this is what despair would look like, given human form.

Tommy, hesitant, because him and Wilbur have been through a lot together, but there’s a lot of unspoken boundaries between them even still, switches from patting his back to wrapping his arm around him. He presses himself flush against Wilbur’s side and ignores the way he is shaking against him. He stares out at the crumbling wall and with how his eyes blur from unshed tears, he can almost convince himself that he’s not seeing any of it at all. “I’m so sorry.” he whispers but he’s pretty sure that Wilbur isn’t hearing him anymore.

Wilbur pushes himself up and he’s got that same strange look in his eyes as he did when he was staring into the fire inside the oven. If Tommy wasn’t looking at the same thing as him, he could almost be convinced that there was fire reflecting in his eyes. “L’Manberg. My unfinished symphony.” he sobs and Tommy has to take a few deep breaths.

A flash of orange catches Tommy’s attention again and he gasps. “Fundy.” Fundy calls something down to the people below him and they scatter to either side and then he kicks off a whole slew of bricks and just like that, there’s a massive gaping wound in the walls of L’Manberg. “Fundy!”

“My great unfinished symphony!” Wilbur cries again and slams his hands against the ground, hard enough that Tommy grabs his wrists, afraid he’ll hurt himself.

* * *

Tommy’s not sure how long they sit there and watch as a symbol of everything they’ve fought for gets torn down before their eyes. But it feels as if one moment the sun is shining bright overhead and the next the sky is full of stars and the people tearing down the walls are nowhere to be seen. Wilbur hasn’t moved from his hunched over position but Tommy’s put some space back between them, sat with his knees curled up beneath his chin, arms wrapped around his legs. He’s not sure what to do now. He sort of wants to curl up and stop existing for a while. He just needs...he needs a minute. This has been one shock to his system after another. Is a break too much to ask for?

When Wilbur speaks, it’s so rough and different from Wilbur’s usual tone, and so sudden, that it startles Tommy. “Tommy…” he sighs and straights his back with an assortment of cracking. “Will you sing the national anthem with me one last time?”

Tommy chews on his lip. He’s not the greatest singer and it’s sort of embarrassing, but… 

“One last time.” he agrees with a nod of his head.

There’s a long pause and then Wilbur snorts. “...how’d it go?” he asks, voice cracking as hysterical laughter tries to bubble out of his throat.

Tommy’s lips wobble as he tries not to smile. This is...this is just so inappropriate it’s not even funny. Except that it kind of is. “I-I can’t remember, Wilbur.” A chuckle breaks through despite his best efforts. “If you don’t know them, how the hell would I?”

That positively cracks Wilbur. He bursts into laughter and Tommy breaks down with him but he’s got this terrible feeling that they’d be sobbing all over again if they hadn’t already cried themselves out.

Wilbur takes a few steading breaths and shoves down his giggling, though it persists more than a few times before he fully regains some semblance of composure. He clears his throat. “Okay, just-just-”

And then he’s singing, The lyrics are familiar once they’re given voice to and Tommy hesitates, not really wanting to ruin how nice Wilbur sounds. He comes in a few beats late and struggles to keep up, but if it bothers Wilbur, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, Wilbur just stares out at L’Manberg until the last beat of the final verse and then it’s like a flip is switched. It’s like he’s decided in an instant that he’s done being upset. He’s packed up all of his emotions and is ready to move on.

His expression goes dead serious and his eyes are hard as he stares out over their home.

Wilbur pushes himself up to his feet and brushes off his knees despite there being no way those grass stains are ever coming out. “I’m leaving this.” he says, shaking his head and turning his back on the ruined black walls. “I can’t watch this anymore.” Tommy gets up to follow him as well, uncertain where they’re heading now. Somewhere they can sleep, he hopes. He’s wiped all over again.

But, as he trails after Wilbur, he has this odd feeling that Wilbur’s final words didn’t mean what he thought they did.

* * *

They find Niki waiting for them on the riverbank. Tommy wonders how long she’s been there. He wonders if she ever even really left them alone at all. He hopes she didn’t hear him singing.

Her bag is on her back now and Wilbur frowns when he sees it. He’s shaking his head before he even speaks and Niki frowns right back, narrowing her eyes. Tommy’s not sure what language their speaking, but he’s lost.

“Wilbur…” Niki says like a warning.

Wilbur crosses his arms. “Niki,” he starts and his voice is gentle in a way it hasn’t been in a while, though it’s still roughened by his previous fit, “I need you to stay here.” He sighs and rubs at the back of his neck. “We don’t...we’re barely on our feet out there. I don’t think it would be right to drag you along before we know what we’re doing.” 

Niki stares at him before shaking her head and sighing, hands on her hips. “Wilbur, you two shouldn’t be doing this all on your own, we’ve already fought one war together, why is this different?” she searches Wilbur’s face and Tommy’s curious about that as well. Why must they leave everyone behind? They already have Tubbo keeping an eye on things, did Niki have to remain behind as well?

Wilbur rubs his hands over his face and it looks like his patience is wearing thin. Though he doesn’t snap. Tommy’s glad that he’s been knocked out of whatever mood he was in this morning. “Please, Niki, I need you to trust me and I need you to stay strong.” He lays a hand on her shoulder and his eyes are pleading.

Niki stares at him, eyes narrowed, before shaking her head. “Fine, Wilbur,” she agrees finally, “I’ll stay here.” She tips her chin up to full meet his eyes and there’s the woman who fought alongside them during the revolution. Soft as Niki appeared, she’d never been one to bend on the things she cares about. “But don’t think that I’m just going to stand by and wait for you.” she says, a promise. “I’ll find a way to take Schlatt down on my own if I have to. Anything for L’Manberg.”

Wilbur cracks a crooked smile, a shadow of what Tommy was used to, and nods. “I wouldn’t expect any different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit shorter of a chapter, but a heavier one as well so I'll leave it there. The chapter after this one is likely going to be an interlude that wraps up this whole sort of arc and then we'll be back to the farm with Techno again! Yay :)  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!


	10. Interlude Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to the second interlude and the last chapter in what I've considered the first L'Manberg arc. This chapter was a beast and I wrote the first bit in two different POVs and two different scenarios before finally landing on the one I decided I was...okay with. I'm still not entirely sure about the pacing of it but I hope everyone reading this enjoys it!

Fundy walks into the castle, almost a week after the election gone south, and Eret wants to be mad that he hadn’t put up more of a fight against Schlatt’s administration, but Eret had given away his right to meddle in L’Manberg politics when he’d made his choice in the revolution. Now all he can do is work damage control for those he cares about and work to make the SMP the safe space that L’Manberg should have been.

He meets Fundy halfway and acknowledges vaguely that it’s strange to see him back in his own clothes again. They both linger awkwardly there, Fundy’s mask is hanging around his neck for once, eyes shifting everywhere but Eret, and Eret shifts from foot to foot. Until finally Eret decides to take the first step, slowly putting his arms around Fundy and squeezing him when he relaxes into the hold. Seeing what happened with Wilbur and Tommy had been enough to remind him that things could turn at a moment's notice. He has to hold on to the people he cares about. “Hey dude, good to see you.” He probably should be keeping Fundy at arms length, with how he had stuck to Schlatt’s side, but they have been friends long enough that the trust between them isn’t easily shaken.

Fundy lets out a breath and returns the hug. “Good to see you too, Eret.” he mumbles, chin resting heavy on Eret’s shoulder. “Mind if we chat for a bit?”

Eret backs off to get a look at Fundy’s face and at the grave expression there, Eret can’t say anything but, “Of course. Not much going on around here, anyway.” At least not anymore now that Wilbur and Tommy are gone once again. “Minor improvements to some buildings, roads, mostly just trying to hold things together after...after the election.” Fundy flinches at that and Eret knows he isn’t looking at the same man who had stood at Schlatt’s back while Tubbo had been made to hunt down his brothers-in-arms. Eret loops their arms together and guides him further into the castle, towards where someone had set up an impromptu dining area. When the people lingering there spot the two of them, they, not so subtly, begin to clear out of the space. More than a few of them give Fundy a guilty look, as if his father being chased out was somehow their fault. But none of them approach him. It’s an oddly different atmosphere to the multiples of people who hadn’t been able to leave Tommy alone the day before. 

But he tries not to think too hard about the whole Tommy and Wilbur situation in general. It isn’t a situation he’s able to do anything about, so he can’t let himself dwell on it. He nudges Fundy into a chair and takes his own across from him, crossing his arms on the tabletop and leaning onto it.

Fundy still won’t meet his eyes and turns his attention more towards the scenery in the castle than towards Eret. Eret leans closer and quietly asks, “Are you okay, Fundy? Because you don’t seem okay.”

Fundy takes a few breaths before he ignores the questions entirely and a whole bunch of other words seem to just fall out of his mouth. “I’m not really working for Schlatt. It’s not - there’s a lot of things Wilbur did that I didn’t really agree with either, but I never wanted this.”

Eret blinks, taken aback. “Aren’t you...the Archbishop of L’Manberg now?”

Fundy’s lips curl up, teeth too sharp to entirely pass as human, and his eyes turn angry, though Eret has a feeling that anger isn’t directed at either of them. “Just because I don’t agree with Schlatt doesn’t mean I want to start another war.” He throws his hands out, as if gesturing to the realm as a whole. “Look where fighting has gotten us all! We are no better now than before.”

He’s...well, Fundy isn’t wrong. It feels as if somewhere along the way they’d all lost sight of what they’d created L’Manberg for to begin with. Eret knew he had, he wouldn’t be sitting on a throne in the middle of the SMP otherwise. But it doesn’t make it any easier for him to figure out where exactly Fundy’s going with this. “I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me, Fundy.” he admits quietly, pushing his shades further up on his nose as he leans back into his chair.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m going to take L’Manberg back from the inside.” he hisses, smacking his hands down onto the table. He grinds his teeth, canines flashing with the motion, and Eret watches it all with wide eyes. Eret wishes he had known Fundy before he grew up in the middle of a war. Sometimes, Eret wonders how things would have turned out for all of them, had they never decided to fight. Would things be better? Would they be less broken? Maybe then he wouldn’t have to watch the people he cares about fall apart at the seams.

Eret reaches forward and lays a tentative hand on top of Fundy’s own and Fundy’s hands slowly curl into fists. Eret tries desperately to see if he can find the teenager from L’Manberg’s infancy in the hard line of Fundy’s jaw, in the set of his brows, but over the years Fundy has truly grown past that child. Him and Tommy and Tubbo had all deserved better.

They still do.

And he’ll do what he can to ensure the kids have something other than fighting to look forward to as they grow older.

“You know you don’t have to do it by yourself, right?” he asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s as worried about Fundy walking back into the wolf den as he is Tubbo. Quackity, however, had dug his own grave on this one. “I’m still in your corner, I know for sure Niki is and she’s even still in L’Manberg-”

“I know that.” Fundy huffs and pulls his hand back from Eret’s so that he could cross his arms and slouch back into his chair. He takes a few slow breaths and relaxes back into some semblance of normalcy, the anger of before wiped away. And when Fundy’s face softens it brings out the features that show just how obviously he’s Wilbur’s child. The pout of his lips, the slope of his nose, the lines of his cheekbones. It’s all Wilbur. Not that Eret would risk what little of Fundy’s trust he has by saying as much. “But I can’t just sit around. I grew up with Schlatt. I am the only one in that cabinet who has any idea of what sort of person Schlatt is.” His lip curls up in derision, one of his canines snagging on his bottom lip, and he shakes his head. “Quackity is going to be eaten alive.” he says, matter of fact and Eret believes him.

“So, what are you planning then?” Eret asks because he’s got a feeling that it wouldn’t be worth the effort to argue this with Fundy. He wouldn’t be telling Eret anything if he hadn’t already made up his mind about it. “Surely, Schlatt knows to keep you and the others at a distance considering your connection to Tommy and Wilbur.”

Fundy shrugs. “I just have to make him think that I want nothing to do with either of them. It won’t be hard in Wilbur’s case.” he mutters, eyes downcast but Eret knows that Fundy doesn’t really hate his father. He shifts his gaze unerringly towards the direction of L’Manberg and there’s a look in his eyes that Eret doesn’t like. Another thing he’s apparently acquired from his father. “I’m going to burn down the flag.” he says softly.

And it takes Eret a moment too long for the words to register. And even when they do all he can manage to say in response is, “Excuse me?”

Fundy turns narrowed eyes on him now. “The easiest way to convince Schlatt is going to be to do something drastic. Think about it like this,” he starts, sitting up and leaning forward on the table, “I have to go too far. If I don’t show that I’m willing to burn bridges and then follow through, he’ll never believe me.” There’s a fanatical gleam to his eyes and Eret doesn’t like it one bit.

“I can’t believe you.” falls out of Eret’s mouth without him thinking about it. Not that he’s got much in the way of thoughts right now anway with how stunned he is by the very thought. That Fundy could even consider such an idea… Coup or not, this couldn’t be the answer to their problems. “There’s gaining Schlatt’s trust and then there’s actively helping to destroy your own history!”

He regrets raising his voice almost immediately as Fundy pushes himself up to his feet and snaps, “It is the only way!” He shoves back from the table and turns his back on Eret, heading for the way they’d come in. Eret follows hesitantly and Fundy eventually stops in an archway, leaning heavily on the stone walls and hanging his head, shoulders rising and falling fast with his breath. “Do you think I don’t realize what burning the flag means?” Fundy asks, shifting his mask up from around his neck and settling it back into its proper place, tightening the ribbon on the back. Fundy glances over his shoulder and one amber eye meets Eret’s. There’s a sadness present layered with determination. “L’Manberg is my father’s legacy. Maybe I’ll never be its leader,” the words are bitter but resigned, “but it’s no less my inheritance.” He turns back around and starts walking again. “I will do whatever I have to to get it back.”

Eret realizes with a horrible sense of dread that Fundy didn’t know his father was still alive and kicking. He hadn’t even considered that Wilbur hadn’t let his own flesh and blood know that he wasn’t dead out in the middle of nowhere. But...he watches Fundy’s back until he leaves the castle. After that disaster of a conversation now is not the time to deliver the news. The news would surely only make whatever Fundy’s going through right now ten times worse.

God, this is only going to end up blowing up in all of their faces. Eret rubs his hands over his face and groans. Niki’s coming to see him once she’s seen off Wilbur and Tommy, though, maybe she’ll have an idea of what to do.

* * *

At this time of night, the usual hub of the city is silent, empty. And Dream sits atop the podium and stares out over L’Manberg with none the wiser to his presence.

What to do, what to do.

He kicks out his foot and listens to the hollow beat of his heel against the front of the podium. He had thought he’d satisfied Wilbur by playing along with his little war. That with L’Manberg established and Wilbur firmly in his own seat of power, things would return to some semblance of normalcy for their realm.

He presses a fist against his mouth and stares out at the scattered torchlight that carved a path across L’Manberg. He should’ve known that wasn’t the end of things. Wilbur had taken the moral high ground in their exchange, of course he wouldn’t be happy just being declared leader. It would put him in about the same position as Dream, after all.

But…

Dream sighs.

Had Wilbur truly miscalculated by holding the election? Had Tommy inviting Schlatt to endorse them really been an oversight? What was Dream supposed to do now? He hadn’t agreed to share land with Schlatt. But now that Schlatt was a democratically elected official, he could only imagine the upset if he tried to publicly interfere with L’Manberg again already.

He groans and scratches his hands through his hair. God, this is so stupid.

A board creaks behind him and Dream’s reflexively pulling his mask back down before he even fully processes what he’s doing.

That is, until a familiar voice makes him pause. “Thought we were past you wearing that thing around me.” Sapnap teases as he drops purposely graceless beside him, pressing their shoulders firmly together. Dream takes it for the solidarity that it is and leans right back. Their heads are nearly pressed together. “Is your down time making you shy?” Sapnap coos, grin cheeky as he presses a finger into one of Dream’s cheeks. But between the look in his eyes and the slight tilt to his brows, Dream knows what he’s really hinting at.

It makes Dream roll his eyes, wincing when he realizes once again that his reactions are fully visible and shooting an apologetic look at Sapnap. “I’m fine, Sapnap.” he says as sincerely as he can and Sapnap gives him a hard look before sighing and shaking his head.

“I hate that he’s got you all twisted in knots again, dude.” Sapnap admits and it’s always weird for him when Sapnap takes something seriously. Not to mention if Sapnap’s taking something serious, then it clearly must be dire. Sapnap waves about one of his hands as the other digs into his hair, unsettling his headband from it’s usual spot. “I thought this was all over when we gave them their stupid Childberg or whatever.” Sapnap snorts and stares out over L’Manberg with a much more malicious look in his eyes. Dream knows that all it would take from him was a word and Sapnap would go about burning the place to the ground all over again.

They haven’t quite reached that point yet but it’s always a nice thing to keep in one’s back pocket.

“We should’ve known that that coward wouldn’t be able to hold onto it.” Sapnap continues, straightening his headband absentmindedly. “If he couldn’t even raise a sword during the war, how’s he gonna handle having all that power?”

There’s an old almost forgotten part of him that wants to jump to Wilbur’s defense but time has only made it easier to ignore. He doesn’t bother explaining to Sapnap how he’s not even sure if all of this was really an accidental oversight on Wilbur’s part. It’s not even worth the effort of trying to articulate when it even sent his own head spinning in paranoid, nonsensical circles.

Instead, he shifts the topic, leaving the whole L’Manberg problem to another day, and choosing something he knows will get Sapnap going. “How’s it going with Karl?” Dream asks with a smirk that only grows as Sapnap frowns at him. But then Sapnap looks away, dropping his gaze in a very un-Sapnap fashion and Dream’s head tilts. “That bad?” he continues, baffled by the reaction. Last he’d heard Sapnap and Karl had been doing great, working on the wedding and trying to decide where they were going to go for their honeymoon. He worries that he’s been so caught up in his own problems that he’s somehow missed out on something important in his friend’s life-

Sapnap sighs and shifts so they’re no longer leaning on each other, cross legged and elbow balanced on one knee, chin resting in the palm of his hand. The fingers of his other hand tapping away at the wood of the podium. “We’re...fine.” he mutters and won’t look at Dream and it’s only serving to make Dream all the more nervous.

“You don’t look ‘fine’.” he says bluntly when Sapnap doesn’t look like he’s going to continue.

He’s not even insulted by the annoyed look Sapnap shoots him because him and Sapnap have known each other long enough that Dream knows that even if it takes some time, he’ll get to the bottom of this mood shift eventually. He can be patient.

But he thankfully doesn’t have to be as Sapnap slouches further forward and says, begrudgingly, “We were going to check out place for our honeymoon and I found something and...may have done something bad again and Karl may or may not be speaking to me until I figure it out.” Dream’s eyebrows slowly inch up his forehead as Sapnap obfuscates. “‘Cause he doesn’t want to get dragged into any fighting or-or something.” Sapnap says, throwing both hands up in the air like he can’t believe it and Dream can’t help his small laugh, though he does try to immediately stifle it with a hand. This is serious conversation time but it isn’t easy to have one of those when half of the variables he’s been given are simply ‘something’. He wouldn’t be surprised though to learn that Sapnap had gotten mixed up in another skirmish. Sapnap’s smart and one of the best fighters that Dream knows but he has a hard time knowing where the line is at times.

And Dream has this feeling that he can guess who Sapnap has once again put himself at odds against. Sure, he’d had no doubt when he’d said it that Sapnap would find Tommy’s hiding place eventually - he wasn’t sure what Sapnap had against the kid to start this feud of theirs but it was Tommy they were talking about - but he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.

Still, Sapnap would be mad if he knew that Dream had been keeping information from him, so Dream plays dumb. “What’d you do this time?” he cajoles, poking at Sapnap’s side and only grinning wider as Sapnap swats at his hands. It devolves into a mini slap fight which Sapnap wins by virtue of shoving Dream off the edge of the podium and his hands around both of Dream’s wrists being the only things keeping him from plummeting the rest of the way down.

His grin is shiteating as he helps Dream scramble back up onto solid ground. The expression doesn’t stick around long enough for Dream to get salty about it though. It fades back to a mixture of annoyed and thoughtful.

Annoyed at what he’s thinking about? Annoyed at the fact that he’s thinking at all?

As much as Dream likes Karl and as happy as he is for him and Sapnap, sometimes he’s not entirely sure he likes how the relationship is changing his friend. Sapnap never would have put this much thought into the consequences of his actions before Karl and that’s just how Dream likes his Sapnap. Willing to rush headlong into anything.

Finally, Sapnap sighs and leans back onto his hands. “We went to the Eiffel Tower to check it out!” he says, loud and exasperated as if he’s just been dying to let it all out. “They were showing us around and I realized like halfway through that there was this one spot they kept leading us around or away from.”

That...isn’t what Dream had been expecting. Did this have nothing to do with Tommy after all? “What were they hiding?” he asks, more alert as paranoia stirs in his chest. After everything he’d done, were there still traitors under their own roof? Were there still those within their own borders conspiring against them?

Sapnap waves him off almost immediately. “Don’t freak out on me, man, it wasn’t anything serious.” And Dream does force himself to relax as Sapnap continues. “Turns out,” he says, a corner of his mouth quirking slightly before flattening into a thin line again, “someone had dropped off a cow in their stables the day before.” He huffs and shakes his head. “They wouldn’t tell me who but it wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Tommy?” he asks and he can admire the kid’s quick action in the face of his hideaway being compromised. But sometimes luck and coincidence outplayed all.

“Tommy.” he confirms. “We were gonna-”

But Sapnap wasn’t able to finish his sentence as in the next moment they were both stunned silent when the sky over L’Manberg blazed orange as if the sunrise had come early.

The flames light up the whole night sky. The whole thing ignites fast. Flames crawl up the flagpole and eat away at the fabric. The wind sends the flag snapping and embers sparking through the air. It’s morbidly picturesque. The kind of tragedy that will inspire artists for years to come. But no one will ever be able to capture the horrible sense of dread and melancholy of the people watching. Those who’d seen the flag raised and were now there to witness the end of an era. The end of everything the L’Manbergians had fought for.

Fundy holds the torch in a tight grip, squinting against the bright light of the burning flag, but he doesn’t look away. This was a necessary sacrifice, but he won’t dishonor the flag he saw the creation of, that he had seen his friends and family fight to raise, by looking away from its final moments. The cries of citizens rise up behind him, but Fundy knows that they won’t act. Those who remain within L’Manberg’s territory are too afraid of Schlatt and his administration to fight back now.

Hopefully even as his people lose their faith in him, he’ll be able to help them from within Schlatt’s administration.

Niki and Eret are frozen halfway up the path back to Eret’s castle, clutching each other as their world is changed in an instant. 

“No!” Niki cries and they are relying on the other to stay on their feet. Watching with horror in their eyes and tears on their faces. 

“I didn’t think he’d actually…” Eret starts but doesn’t finish as he forgets what he was saying entirely. It feels wrong to say anything more.

It’s this moment that cements their loyalty to each other and the people relying on them. Eret to proving his worth and Niki to ruining Schlatt and getting their L’Manberg back.

Dream grabs on to Sapnap without even thinking. The flames illuminate the entirety of L’Manberg like it’s own sun. He can see lights coming back on in houses as the people slowly emerge from their homes. The streets fill up fast with people and despair. Sapnap lets out a low whistle but for once his mouth stays shut. Dream’s not sure anyone could find the right thing to say in this situation.

Tubbo has his hands pressed over his mouth. He’s in the White House and he knows it’s not safe to be showing this much emotion. He’s trying to keep it all inside lest someone with a direct line to Schlatt were to stumble across him like this. 

He jumps when he feels someone press up against his side and looks over with wide, wet eyes. Quackity has one hand pressed to the window and the other digging into his hair beneath his beanie. Tubbo still isn’t sure how to feel about Quackity and his betrayal of Tommy and Wilbur but he could be sure, in this moment, that Quackity wants what’s best for L’Manberg, same as the rest of them. Tubbo tries not to think about what Tommy is feeling, out there on his own, with a shaky Wilbur to keep an eye on.

Wilbur almost doesn’t see it at all. Tommy’s just about passed out atop his own horse and Wilbur has taken the time to attach their horses together with a lead, to keep him from ending up somewhere he shouldn’t. 

But...Wilbur pauses on the last mountain between Techno’s farm and L’Manberg. Past this L’Manberg will vanish behind the mountain range like it doesn’t exist at all. Wilbur will have to work harder to convince himself that it wasn’t all a dream that he’s woken up from. That he isn’t back in the early days just him and Schlatt after he’d torn the Guild apart in a desperate final effort to achieve freedom for him and his family.

So, Wilbur can’t help but pause there near the top, Tommy’s horse coming to a stop as well, and takes a deep breath and turns around in his saddle.

And...there’s a bright light in the distance. 

Wilbur’s brows furrow and he glances straight up above his own head and confirms, yes, there’s the moon. The sky nearest them is still dark and sprinkled with stars. He swings himself fully around in his saddle, too concerned with what this bright spot obscuring the sky over L’Manberg is to worry about his horse running away with him. 

What the fuck is that…?

His heart stops.

The flickering of embers and the light emanating from it gives just enough of an impression for Wilbur to realize what he’s looking at.

“No…” he breathes and has to press a hand to his mouth to keep from screaming out the anger suddenly surging through him. He doesn’t want to wake up Tommy. Tommy doesn’t need to see their failure in such stark detail. Wilbur’s eyes start watering and he sucks in breath after shaky breath.

As if tearing down the walls wasn’t enough! Is nothing sacred? Is there no length Schlatt is not willing to go to get back at Wilbur after all this time? 

Wilbur swallows this all back. Tucking it away just like everything else.

He wants to look away too. He’d love to not have to see this. But-but this is a turning point. This is a point of no return. This is their history being burned to the ground in front of the whole realm and Wilbur will pay witness to it, if only so that he will never forget the rage simmering in his gut in this moment. This is a horrible injustice to all the people of L’Manberg and it is visible to anyone with eyes which only adds insult to injury.

Firelight reflects in Wilbur’s eyes and the need for vengeance burns beneath his skin. He watches their flag’s final moments.

Watches until only the flag pole and embers remain where it once flew.

And then he resituates himself in the saddle and rides on.

Tommy is drifting in and out of consciousness. He’s already leaned far enough forward in the saddle that the horn is digging hard into his stomach and he’s pretty sure that that’s the only reason he has fallen off and eaten dirt yet. But that doesn’t mean that his brain is firing on all cylinders at the moment.

His eyes are closed and he feels when Wilbur ties their horses together even if he isn’t in the frame of mind to acknowledge it.

He only sinks deeper into the fuzziness of sleep when they come to a full stop. He’s not sure why or for how long they sit without moving but when they start moving again the shifting unsettles him enough that he jolts. He blinks and rubs his eyes but doesn’t move otherwise. He’d rather sleep some more and closes his eyes to do just that.

And all of that means that when Wilbur starts talking, come the next morning, Tommy’s not sure if he heard him right or not. Come afternoon, Tommy will have talked himself out of having heard anything at all.

He doesn’t hear the malicious note to Wilbur’s voice. He doesn’t hear the promise of danger, the fury barely caged just beneath the surface of it all. He doesn’t hear him murmur, “Tommy Innit, I am a slow-burning fuse.” with the tone of a man confessing a sin. “I am a long, slow-burning fuse, but I'm telling you now, over the next couple weeks, I...I'm gonna be a different man than the one Schlatt crossed.” Tommy sways and there’s the press of a hand to his shoulder that keeps him from straying too far off balance in the saddle and that’s why he certainly doesn’t catch, “I can feel it.” It’s almost got a touch of an apology to it. “And maybe this new man is more open to...having Technoblade back in his life.”

Yeah, Tommy’s too worn out to hear any of that.

* * *

“Oh right.” Eret murmurs, breaking the silence that’s fallen over them since the final embers had flickered and died. Along with what felt like whatever hope and decency she had been holding onto. He digs through his satchel as they walk before finally pulling out a folded up piece of paper with her name scrawled across the top of it. “We found this when putting Tommy and Wilbur’s room back to rights. Don’t worry,” he says, partially joking and partially, she knows, because he feels like he has to, “I didn’t read it.” And he holds it out to her.

“Oh.” she says, taking it and unfolding it without anymore urging. Definitely not Wilbur’s handwriting, but she’s not sure why Tommy would be leaving her a note instead of just talking to her-

-her heart skips a beat and her whole body goes numb. The note slips from her slack fingers and flutters to the ground. Her feet refuse to take another step.

Hands land heavy on her shoulders and it startles her into sucking in a breath. “Niki?” Eret’s voice barely reaches her through the new fog of panic. “Niki, what is it? What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and breaks free from his hold, spins around, orients herself and then takes off running for the Eiffel Tower. “Niki, wait-!” Eret calls after her, but there’s no time for that.

She’s only got to hope that no one has beaten her there. Tommy doesn’t deserve to lose any more than he already has.

…

………

Dream leaves even as Sapnap shouts rude words after him for abandoning him in the middle of a conversation. He’s drawn towards the center of this disaster with the sort of morbid intrigue that gets people interested in the story behind crimes and criminals. He wants to know who had the balls to go through with this.

He pulls the hood further down as he pushes his way to the front of the crowd, people parting easily when they realize who is among them. And when he reaches the front, he spots curly auburn hair before any other details, only made bright by the dying embers he stands in the middle of.

Of all the things he had expected to find here, it certainly hadn’t been Wilbur’s son, a torch burning low in one hand, soot covering his hair and shoulders, mask covering the entirety of his expression.

When Fundy glances over his shoulder with unerring accuracy and amber eyes meet his own even through his mask, Dream straightens.

He starts paying attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of focus on Fundy and Dream here but I think that they're both interesting characters to explore, Fundy especially as someone who supposedly has so much to live up to and having essentially grown up in the middle of war just like Tommy and Tubbo.


	11. Chapter 9

For once, Techno doesn’t actually hear Tommy before he sees him. He hears the plodding of horses and the creak of the gate opening and shoots a quick glance over his shoulder. He recognizes the horses being led in before he turns his attention to make sure the people attached to them are the ones he wants to see. He continues to methodically pull clothes off the line and put them in the basket by his feet as he gives both of them a once over. Wilbur stands tall as always, though Techno can see the dark bags under his eyes from here, and his chest is rising and falling a little faster than is normal. Surprisingly, though, he’s got both of the horse’s reins in his hands. Though that’s less surprising when Techno turns his eyes on Tommy and sees that the kid may as well be asleep on his feet. He plods along beside Wilbur, shoulders rounded, head low, and arms around his middle, eyes half lidded. 

Except that when Tommy looks up, his eyes go wide and Techno can’t figure out why until he remembers, a little too late, that he doesn’t have his mask on. But, he reminds himself as he pulls a little too hard at a clothespin, he’s outgrown the need to wear the mask in every aspect of his life and Wilbur already knows what he looks like anyway. If they’ve actually come back then they were clearly planning on sticking around and, though he didn’t want it to leave his side, he had been getting tired of wearing the thing around all the time again.

He shoves a few more things into the basket and then hefts it up onto a hip before walking to meet the boys where the path splits between the house and the barn. Techno doesn’t even acknowledge how intensely Tommy is staring at him, instead shoving the basket of clothes into the kid’s hands and then snagging one of the horse’s reins out of Wilbur’s grip and continuing on towards the barn. “Just leave those in the living room and I’ll finish up with them.” Techno calls over his shoulder, not even giving Tommy the chance to protest.

And he knows Tommy would because he can hear the kid sputtering behind him but Wilbur says, “Get some sleep, Tommy.” Cuts in quickly again with, “And, no, catching maybe fours hours while riding a horse doesn’t really count, so just do it.”

“You're treating me like a child again.” Tommy grumbles but doesn’t say anything else and Techno figures that’s that when Wilbur catches up with him inside of the barn, Techno already working to get the horse’s tack off.

They work in silence for a bit before Techno finally asks, “Was it worth the trip?”

Wilbur laughs bitterly and shakes his head, briefly leaning his forehead against his horse’s withers. “Is anything worth it?” he murmurs, dramatic as always, enough so that Techno can’t help but roll his eyes, before pushing himself back upright and meeting Techno’s eyes. Techno wants to look away so bad, even though every instinct ever instilled in him keeps him from doing so, merely because the deadpan look on his face reminds Techno so much of Phil in that moment. “Technoblade, about that ravine you’ve got hidden under the house…” He switches the topic and Techno considers challenging him, pushing it, but, well, if Wilbur doesn’t want to acknowledge his problems, Techno’s not going to put in the effort for him.

“What about it?” he sighs.

“Do you mind if I make some…” he hums as if searching for the words. “...modifications to it?”

He doesn’t like the sound of that. He really doesn’t. 

Techno gives him a narrow eyed look but Wilbur’s staring down at the soft brush in his hand instead, eyes following the motion of his hand over the horse’s coat. He’s sure he’ll regret this, but it isn’t as if he’s doing anything down there past him brewing set up. He shrugs. “Sure.” And then he remembers that he has things down there that he doesn’t want Wilbur digging around in and clarifies, “But don’t mess with the brewing room. Rest of the ravine’s fair game.”

Wilbur nods but doesn’t say anything else. Techno figures that he’s likely just as tired as Tommy, if not more so, and leaves their conversation at that.

It’s probably the most peacefully they’ve coexisted so far.

It still makes him wary.

Techno snaps awake.

He’s got a hand on his sword, he hadn’t let it leave his side knowing that Tommy was asleep not even a foot away, but for a moment, he can’t figure out what’s woken him.

That is, until he hears someone clattering around in the kitchen. And when he hears aggressive muttering and quiet cursing not long after, Techno sighs and forces himself to release his hold on his sword. Slumps back down into the nest of blankets that have replaced the coffee table. He’d willingly given up his room to Wilbur, too strung out having people in his space to hole up in there anyway.

“Why me?” he mutters. The kid had looked dead on his feet yesterday, there was no reason for him to already have so much energy at, Techno cracks an eye open and glances towards the windows, literally sunrise.

“What are you doin’ in there?” he calls as he throws a hand over his eyes, even though sleep is long out of his grasp now.

There’s a yelp and something metal hits the floor with a clang that rings through the whole house. If Wilbur wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now. If Wilbur was the same as Techno remembered, he reacted to noise about as well as Techno.

He might even be worse now, if this war Techno’s heard about had any effect. 

“I’m starving!” Tommy shouts, clearly having no idea what it means to have an inside voice, and Techno’s already regretting letting him come back. It was only because they had his horses and he wanted them back. Yeah, that was it.

“Could you starve a little quieter?” he says but slowly pushes himself up anyway. He brushes his hair back out of his face and grimaces as he takes in the state of his home. It looks like a whirlwind has passed through the place and it makes him wonder how long Tommy’s been awake.

Techno pulls the tie out of his hair and holds it between his teeth, slowly unbraiding it and brushing out the knots with his fingers as he goes, and examines the room around him. There are items scattered about in various piles on every surface that could hold them and some haphazardly in places that Techno’s sure is going to be a problem later. He nudges a pile of miscellaneous mushrooms near his foot and watches as they tumble away from each other.

Then there’s the multiple glass vials full of various powders thrown onto the couch, right where anyone could just...sit on them without paying attention. He’s pretty sure that some of that is gun powder too. He’s going to be walking on eggshells throughout his whole house now. Who knows what Tommy’s going to have laying around.

He takes a moment to mourn his mostly clean home.

Though between the gunpowder, and what he can also identify as glowstone and probably blaze powder, they are some impressive ingredients for the kid to have laying around. Especially next to multiple strips of leather, scattered feathers, and a couple of apples.

A hand reaches over the back of the couch and plucks one of the vials off of the cushion. Techno ties his hair back away from his face and up off his neck into a high ponytail as he watches Wilbur examine the gunpowder before setting it gently back down. “He can’t do anything silently.” Wilbur mock whispers, though not nearly quietly enough for it not to be heard in the kitchen.

“I fucking heard that!”

Techno and Wilbur glance towards the kitchen where Tommy is glaring out at both of them. The corner of Techno’s lips twitch and he can see Wilbur smirking out of the corner of his eye.

Well, maybe it won’t actually be too bad having the both of them here.

And while it gets easier, it certainly isn’t simple for him. And though Wilbur and Tommy seem to work well in each other’s space, both seem used to basically being on top of each other, Techno’s not sure he’s seen the two of them in the same room for more than a minute or two since that first morning. Wilbur keeps squirreling away into the ravine, more than once Techno has caught him sneaking out in the middle of the night. But even though their trip seemed to have initially done them so good, as the days pass they grow tense all over again.

And Tommy’s not making anything better by following Techno around like he’s got nothing better to do with his time. Which, Techno supposed, he doesn’t. Though, as Techno tends to the small garden behind his house, the one that normally makes up the majority of his food supply, he seems to be fine occupying himself by switching between shooting random items off the top railing of the fence with his crossbow and hefting an axe and shield.

Techno watches him as he carefully trims back some of his plants. But he sits back on his heels and wipes sweat from his brow, head tilting as Tommy takes a particularly vicious swing. It’s a move that Techno’s not sure he could pull off, not only because he’s not as familiar with the axe as with a sword, but because he doesn’t always have the speed. Tommy shifts into a defensive position, head just visible over the tall shield, most of his skinny body hidden behind it-

-and he strikes out for an invisible enemy, but doesn’t quite pull off whatever he’s aiming for, cursing as his axe catches on his shield on the drawback.

But it’s close enough that Techno notices how familiar it looks.

He’s sure he’s seen that move before. And once he’s noticed it, Techno can’t stop noticing the similarities. Between his grip on the axe, his stance, the fluidity of his movements.

It looks like Techno has some sort of mimic on his hands.

“Dream teach you that?” he asks, just for some sort of confirmation one way or the other.

Tommy scoffs as he fully drops his guard, resting the head of his axe against the ground and propping himself up with it. “No.” he says like it’s a dumb question, to which Techno merely nods because information is information. “I taught myself.” he announces with his chest puffed out. Until he deflates a little. “Well, me and Fundy figured it out together during the war.” He scowls and leans his shield against his hip to scratch a hand through his hair. “Most of our side only knew how to fight with swords, if they knew how to fight at all and-and me and Fundy knew that if we wanted a chance we had to learn how to fight with axes.”

Techno nods. “Can do more damage if you know what you’re doing and they’re the best way to brute force past shields.”

“Exactly!” Tommy crows, flinging his arms about and fumbling to catch his shield when he nearly sends it to the ground. “But besides that,” he huffs, “me and Dream have been at odds for a long time. He wouldn’t do anything for me.”

Techno tries to imagine Dream having beef with an even younger Tommy. While the image is amusing and Dream’s age has always been pretty ambiguous - partially due to that mask of his and, for Techno, partially because he’s not entirely sure how human Dream really is - it’s very, very odd. It makes him wonder if it’s a Tommy thing or if Dream has simply lowered his standard when it comes to rivalries.

He also can’t ignore the fact that Tommy could just be lying. Exaggerating a few things. Techno’s not sure that Tommy would, but there’s always the chance. Then again it isn’t as if Techno knows either of them spectacularly well even if he is getting to know Tommy better now.

He supposes that someone can learn just as well from an ally as from someone on the opposite side of the battlefield.

“Sounds like you’ve got quite the list of enemies.” he says, leaving out ‘for someone so young’, not only because he’s fairly certain it wouldn’t go over well with Tommy, but also because, well, he’s not one to talk on that front.

Tommy laughs at that. “Well people do tend to find me annoying when they first meet me.” he says like it’s a point of pride for him, swinging his axe up so it rests on his shoulder. “But most end up reconsidering because I’ve got loads of charisma.”

Techno snorts and shakes his head, finally pushing himself up off the ground, brushing the dust off his knees. And though he’s sure that it won’t go over great, he can’t help but comment, “Oh, of course, that’s why you’re out here with me.”

Tommy’s smug grin falters for a moment, becoming serious briefly, before bouncing right back, though his laughter is sharper this time. “Well, you haven’t thrown me out yet. That’s proof enough, isn’t it?”

Techno laughs and nods, digging through his satchel until he finds the axe that he carries but doesn’t typically use for more than chopping wood. He pulls it out and drags a shield out with it. “Fair enough.” he agrees. He puts some space between himself and his garden. He doesn’t want his plants trampled after all.

Tommy watches him. “What’re you doing?” he asks as if it isn’t obvious.

“I’m not gonna let you run around with a weapon you taught yourself how to use.” Techno huffs.

“What d’you mean?” Tommy squawks. “I’m still alive, aren’t I? No thanks to Wilbur.” he mutters. A guilty look flashes over his face but he shakes it off in favor of his normal pout.

Techno sighs. “Don’t know why.” he admits, fidgeting with the straps on the shield. It’s been awhile since he’s worn one. “Pretty sure Phil taught him, same as me.” Techno’s glad that Wilbur’s nowhere to be found while they are, apparently, having this discussion now. He knows how Wilbur is, was, and knows that Wilbur likes to keep things close to the chest.

It seems to incense Tommy, just knowing that Wilbur had the ability to fight and had done nothing with it. “Then why was he so insistent on using his words! Being-being a pacifist or whatever.” He sniffs and grimaces. Clearly, Techno has hit a soft spot with his comment. Oops. “Can’t even wear armor within L’Manberg’s borders.”

That sends Techno’s eyebrows nearly to his hairline. Sure, him and Wilbur hadn’t spent their whole lives together, but they had grown up alongside each other. And Phil had hammered safety first into both of their heads. Phil himself wouldn’t be caught dead somewhere without his armor close at hand. Maybe within the comfort of his own home. Maybe. 

But then, Techno doesn’t know Wilbur anymore. He’s certainly not the kid that Techno could remember wrestling with, learning to spar alongside. He probably wasn’t the person that Wilbur remembered either. Fair was fair. “Can’t say I agree, but you probably know what’s going through his head better than me.” When he really thinks about it, spinning his axe in his hand, refamiliarizing himself with the weight of it, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities for Wilbur. He had always liked to work his machinations from the shadows. Phil had taught them everything he could but that never stopped them from preferring certain lessons over others. Each of them learning to stir chaos in their own special ways. And just like he had grown his repertoire throughout their years apart, he was sure Wilbur had as well, though there was no saying in what ways. One thing he does know though is, “Wilbur has his reason for everything. He doesn’t do anything without a purpose.” And if Techno is gently nudging Tommy towards some critical thinking when it comes to Wilbur, well, it isn’t as if Wilbur’s here to stop him. And it’ll only help the kid in the long run.

Tommy shifts his weight from foot to foot and it’s that slightest of movements that tells Techno that Tommy’s not as oblivious to what’s going on with Wilbur as Wilbur would like to think he is. Good for him. 

Tommy, after his moment of hesitation, shakes himself like a wet dog and pulls up his shield, lifting his axe and pointing it squarely at Techno. Techno raises a brow. “Fine.” Tommy sniffs. Okay, they’re moving right along then. “Teach me some shit I already know! See how it feels to have your time wasted.”

Considering the results of their initial spar, Techno would beg to differ. Tommy’s not bad. Even his movements with the axe aren’t the worst that Techno’s ever seen but adding a shield into the mix with no prior experience would throw off even the most coordinated.

He shrugs and comes to stand beside Tommy rather than across from him. He’s not planning on chasing the kid around for a few hours like the last time. This is him actually trying to teach the kid something. “I’ve spent longer doin’ worse.” he says. Ensuring the kid has more of a fighting chance next time he’s in a fight is more worthy a cause than half of the things Techno’s done in the last decade or so.

Not that he’d say as much out loud.

Don’t need the kid getting any bigger of a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super satisfied with this chapter, but I want to give a bit of time between the next major plot point/another return to L'Manberg, so have some character interactions! 
> 
> I've also had the majority of this chapter sitting in my doc for about a month and I just want to move on from these scenes now haha. If I can ever get through this downtime I already know how we're kicking off the next bit of plot I just need to get there!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)


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